Lessons From My Father
by Xiomari
Summary: (AU) Bra is a typical teenager, despite her unusual parentage. She has interests in fashion and social trends, leaving little time for Vegeta's "uncool" training sessions. But her peaceful lifestyle comes to a halt when her home is attacked. Sent back in time to the days of Vegeta's enslavement to Frieza, Bra must find her way back home and defeat those who had attacked her home.
1. Lesson One

**Summary:** (AU) Bra is your typical teenager – that is, if you ignore the fact that she is the fifteen-year-old daughter to the richest woman in the world and an alien prince of a fallen warrior race. With growing interests in shopping, fashion, music, and boys, there seems to be little room left in her busy life for her father's "uncool" training sessions. However, her peaceful, easygoing lifestyle is one day interrupted by an attack on Capsule Corp. Getting caught up in the conflict, she is sent back into the past to the days of Vegeta's service under Frieza. Bra must figure out a way to return to her era and save her family and friends from the alien attackers.

**Author's Note(s):** Some background information for saiyan culture can be found on my author's page. It is not necessary to read this information to understand this story. It is merely there for reference if more insight is desired.

**Disclaimer:** Copyrighted material contained within this fan fiction is the property of its respected owners. No profit is to be made from this fan fiction. This fan fiction is for entertainment purposes only.

* * *

_Lessons From My Father_

_Lesson One  
__Always Be Prepared_

_ By the time I was twelve years old, I was strong enough to defeat, in a spar, the strongest men in the world. And by 'strongest men,' I mean strongest _human_ men. Even still, Daddy was determined to have me train with him for several hours each week. At that age, it was the last thing I wanted to do. I felt I had better things to do with my time, like shopping or hanging out with my friends. But he would hear none of it._

_ "Why do I have to know how to fight?" I asked him one day._

_ I was frustrated with him, to say the least. He had been goading me to try to strike him all afternoon – while he was powered up into his super saiyan form – and I had been unsuccessful thus far._

_ "You will know how to fight because that is what saiyans do," came his answer. That was _always_ his answer._

_ "But I'm only _half _saiyan," I reminded him. "I'm also half human and my human half says I don't have to know how to fight."_

_ He powered down; his gold hair and teal eyes darkened to their usual black. His face remained passive, but I could tell that he was growing impatient with me. Through our kinship bond, I could feel him unintentionally brush his conscious against my own. I could feel his disappointment. I tried not to feel ashamed at my outburst, and his resulting dismay, but the shame wiggled itself into my core nonetheless._

_ I sighed. "I just don't understand," I tried to placate him. "You and Trunks, Uncle Goku and Gohan and Goten. All of you are so much stronger than me. What use could you possibly have of me in a battle? A _real_ battle? You don't need me to know how to fight..."_

_ Daddy remained quiet for some time. His expression remained stoic. But I could feel a shift in his demeanor. He was no longer disappointed. Just... sad, perhaps? I knew he was trying to puzzle out a way to answer me. So I waited. After several long minutes, his composure seemed to deflate._

_ "As strong as I am, as strong as your brother is, as strong as Kakarot and his brood are... We may not always be able to come to your aid in a time of need. If you always rely on us to save you, then you will not be able to save yourself before it's too late. You must always be prepared for the situation where you will be unable to rely on anyone but yourself."_

_ When he finished, I knew that he was right. I couldn't argue with that logic. Even though I doubted the day would ever come that none of my saiyan family or friends would be able to help me in the face of danger. But I couldn't ignore the wave of concern that I felt through the bond I shared with Daddy. It wasn't for him that he made me train every week. It was for me._

_~from The Memoirs of Bra Briefs_

* * *

Date: Age 793, May 27th  
Location: West City, Earth

The sun rose on another beautiful morning in West Capital. The weather was turning warmer. The birds were out singing to each other. The citizens were trickling out of their homes to begin their commutes to work and school.

Life inside the family wing of Capsule Corp. headquarters was starting out as usual, except for one difference. Today was Bra Brief's fifteenth birthday. The young heiress practically bounced down the steps, filled with the happy excitement of her very special day. Although her day would start out no different than normal – she was planning on attending school that day, even though her mother had offered to let her stay home – she had a huge celebration planned for that evening. And because her birthday had fallen on a Friday this year, there was no specific curfew for her party to end. "7:00pm to ?" the invitations had said.

The birthday girl pranced into the kitchen where all the members of her family had gathered for breakfast. As usual, her pappy was seated at the table with a newspaper in front of his face – the deep wrinkles in his skin and thin wisps of hair indicated his ninety-three years. Her grammy, despite her own aging body (and the presence of many servo-bots), insisted on bringing servings and helpings to the table. Also seated at the table was Bra's mother; one hand holding a cup of coffee and the other scrolling through charts on a tablet. Next to Bulma, Trunks was finishing his breakfast before he and his mother headed to the R&D wing. Just as Bra had entered the kitchen from the second floor, Vegeta had entered from the other side of the room. Wearing only a pair of training shorts and sneakers, he had obviously just returned from his early morning jog.

"Good morning, my lovely family!" Bra sang as she plopped herself down in an empty seat next to her pappy.

From her parents and her brother, she got grunts of acknowledgment. They were all too engrossed in their activities, be it food or company business. But the response she got from her grandparents was much better.

"Good morning, pumpkin," her pappy happily returned the greeting, setting his paper to the side while doing so. "How are you today?"

"I'm good, Pappy. How are you?"

"I seem to be doing rather well. The arthritis isn't so bad today." His smile morphed into contemplation when he added, "But I think my memory is on the fritz. Seems as though there's something important that has slipped my mind..."

Bra giggled. Doc Briefs had been saying the same thing on every one of her birthdays.

"Oh, dear, there's nothing wrong with your memory! You very well know what day it is today," Kiki Briefs chided her husband. She turned to Bra and handed her a tiny package wrapped in pink paper and elegant ribbons. "Happy birthday, sweetie!"

"Thank you, Grammy," Bra said as she accepted the gift. "Are you sure I can open it now? My party isn't until later..."

Her grammy waved her age-spotted hand dismissively. "You go ahead and open it now. You'll be so busy entertaining your friends tonight to bother with your Pappy and me."

Bra gave her grandmother a mock-pout. "Don't say that, Grammy! I'll always have time for you and Pappy!"

Kiki, while touched by her granddaughter's honest and heartfelt rebuke, pushed Bra onward. "Well, go on! Open it!"

The teenager's gaze dropped to the package in her hands. By now, she had gained the attention of her parents and her brother. Bulma and Trunks took a moment to pull themselves out of their own little worlds to give her their full and undivided attention. While Vegeta continued to shovel food into his mouth, his decreased pace was enough indication for Bra to know that he was watching as well.

Bra carefully slid the ribbons off of the small present and set them aside. How her grandmother was able to tie so many ribbons around such a small box was beyond her. She found a seam in the paper and gently tore it away. A jewelry box was revealed to her, but she had already guessed what type of box it was based on touch alone. She flipped open the lid and sucked in a breath of air. Inside was a pair of teardrop-shaped ruby earrings.

"Oh, Grammy... they're beautiful! Thank you so much!"

The birthday girl stood up and gave her grandmother a hug and a kiss on the cheek. The feel of her grandmother's small, bony form caused Bra to be consciously mindful of her own strength. After the embrace, she showed the earrings to her parents and brother. Bulma complimented her mother on her selection. Trunks agreed that they looked nice. Vegeta nodded his acknowledgment but said nothing otherwise and continued with his meal. Bra sat back down in her seat. She removed the earrings from the box and hooked them into her ears.

"They look perfect on you, sweetie!" Kiki cooed.

The Doc then chimed in, "Don't forget my gift!"

He slid a gift bag across the table towards Bra. The bag, with the image of balloons and "Happy Birthday" printed all over it, was much larger than the box that her grammy had given her. Bra pushed the white tissue paper aside and found a box deep inside. Her eyes widened when she saw what it was. From the bag, she pulled out the newest piece of technology that the company was producing: the CC smart watch.

"Oh my... Pappy! These aren't even available in stores yet!"

The elderly man beamed. "That's the very first one off of the production line, my dear. Not even your brother has one yet."

Bra glanced over at Trunks to gauge his reaction. As the head of the company's R&D team, it was usually his privilege to own new tech first. But instead of receiving a bitter or jealous look from the twenty-seven-year old, she got an impish smile.

"It's true," he confirmed.

Her pappy grabbed her attention again. "That watch comes with all the standard applications; current time in all the time zones, calendar, event planner, calculator, dictionary, address book, contact list, cell phone, GPS, compass, and weather forecaster. It has a built-in 22 megapixel camera _and_ has four holo-lenses to project a three dimensional display. In addition, it can connect wirelessly to just about any computerized device you already own; your smart phone, your laptop, the computers in your mother's labs..."

"That's so champ!" she breathed.

"But there's one more function that's been programmed into your smart watch that no other smart watch will have," her pappy stated.

Bra's curiosity was peaked. "What's that?"

Bulma, having an idea, blurted, "You didn't..." But her interruption went unnoticed.

The Doc answered his granddaughter. "There's a dragonball locator designed into it as well."

"Really?" the teenager asked.

"Yep," her pappy confirmed.

Bra didn't know how to respond so instead she stood up from her seat once more and gave her grandfather a hug and a kiss on his wrinkled cheek. "Thank you so much, Pappy!"

"You're welcome, sweetheart."

When Bra peeled herself away from her pappy, Trunks cleared his throat to gain her attention. "My turn," he said as he tossed a small envelope across the table. "I'm not sure if I'll make it to your party tonight or not, but I figured I'd give it to you now."

Her brother's words only fueled her curiosity. She picked up the envelope; it was almost too small to contain a card of any sort. But there was one tucked away inside, nonetheless. She carefully slid it out of its case and two laminated squares of paper fell onto the surface of the table. She retrieved these, but before looking at them, she read the handwritten words on the inside of the card first, scrawled in her brother's scratchy penmanship. It read:

_To my baby sister who isn't a baby anymore. Happy birthday, sis. Love, Trunks._

Bra smiled at the birthday wish and then finally focused on the plastic sleeves in her other hand. Concert tickets. She turned them over. The front displayed the words _Sunrise Five_ and _Backstage Pass_. Her jaw dropped. Her brother had gotten her tickets to see her absolute favorite boy band!

"Oh, Trunks! This is fantabulous!"

The lavender-haired man blushed a little under the compliment. "I figured that you'd like 'em. I recently retrofitted their tour buses with several upgrades. As thanks for getting the upgrades finished so quickly, their manager gave me the tickets."

"Thank you, Trunks!" Bra practically skipped around the table and latched onto her brother. She didn't hold anything back in this hug, knowing full well that her big and strong brother could handle it. He lightly returned the embrace; he didn't share the bubbly exuberance that his sister had.

Bulma sighed. "Well, since we all seem to be doing gifts now, I suppose it won't hurt to give you mine, too."

Bra separated from her brother so she could face her mother. "If you want to wait until the party, that's okay, Momma."

"Well, I think you may want it before the party anyway," the Capsule Corp. CEO replied.

She handed a large, but light, box to her daughter. Bra carefully peeled away the sparkling blue paper to reveal a clothing box. She lifted the lid. Inside was a rich red garment. Bra lifted the item from the box slowly with eyes full of wonder. It was beautiful silk dress, spaghetti straps, a low cut back, and fell to mid-thigh. It was the dress that Bra had been eyeballing for several weeks.

"Oh, momma..." she breathed. "Thank you so much!" She set the dress back down and gave her mother a huge hug.

When the mother and daughter duo separated, Bulma added, "And I have another surprise for you. I know you said you couldn't skip school today because of an exam, so I'm going to pick you up early instead. I've made an appointment to take you to _Madame's Health and Beauty Spa_ this afternoon. Facial, manicure, pedicure, full body massage, the whole deal. I promise, you'll love it."

A wide smile spread across the teenager's face. "Thank you, momma. It sounds like it'll be a lot of fun!"

Bulma nodded in agreement, happy that her daughter was pleased. At that moment, Vegeta excused himself from the table without a word. His silent departure garnered the attention of the entire family. Bra wondered if perhaps he had left to retrieve a gift he had gotten for her, since everyone else had preemptively done so. She, like everyone else, waited for his return. But when he never came back, the anticipation in the air shifted to awkwardness. Everyone slowly averted their attentions back towards the tasks they had been in the midst of before the gift exchange had started; the Doc to his paper, Kiki to her cooking, Bulma to her tablet, and Trunks to his breakfast.

Bra tried not to let her disappointment show on her face. She had gotten so many wonderful presents already. How could she expect herself to demand more? But it wasn't the lack of or desire for more material things that plagued her. It was about her father acknowledging her birthday. She loved her father very much. He was her Daddy. She might not always understand him and sometimes his behaviors may seem odd to her. But his approval had always been important to her. Perhaps it was because his expectations were so high. Perhaps it was because everyone else in her family just accepted her for who she was, whether she grew up to work in a high position in the family business or if she followed her grammy's footsteps and became a housewife. It was always her father who had pushed her, who had demanded more from her, who worked very hard to guide and shape her life.

It was for these reason that it hurt her, just a little bit, when he had gotten up and left the room without so much as a "Happy birthday" from him.

Bra ate a quick breakfast as these thoughts rattled around her head and her disappointment festered in her her heart. A car horn from the front courtyard alerted Bra to the fact that her friends had pulled up out front to pick her up for school. She jumped up from her seat, said goodbye to each of her family members, sans Vegeta, and headed for the front vestibule. She grabbed her bag on her way out, quickly greeted the secretary and security guards stationed in the vestibule, and exited the building. As she climbed into the red sedan and received birthday wishes from her friends, she decided to put the unpleasant feelings of her father's aloofness out of her mind. This was her birthday and she was going to enjoy it.

* * *

Bra sat in her sixth period classroom. The room was silent except for the sounds of pencils scratching on sheets of paper and buttons being pressed on graphing calculators. A set of calculus equations, unsolved, were written on the white board at the front of the room. The teacher, a middle-aged brunette woman, sat at her desk, using the time to write up future lesson plans and homework assignments, no doubt. The two dozen students – all two to three year's Bra's senior – had their heads bent over the math problems they were working on.

The blue-haired teenager looked up at the numbers and symbols written in blue dry-erase marker on the boards in front of the classroom. Then back down to the paper on the desk in front of her. She had worked out the first three of the ten equations almost without having to think about them. The problems were just too easy for her. They provided absolutely no challenge.

Twice already, Bra had skipped ahead in school. She knew that she could have easily skipped ahead once or twice more, just as her brother had done. But she also knew how this behavior had isolated Trunks. With every grade level that Trunks had skipped, the age gap between himself and his classmates had widened ever more so until, eventually, he was enrolled in courses among those who were five years older than him. And what seventeen- or eighteen-year-old wants to associate with a twelve-year-old? Only those who wished to prey upon his wealth and naivety.

Bra, who craved social bonds much more than Trunks ever had, didn't want to repeat the same mistake her brother had made and she had refused to skip ahead any further than she already had. She wanted to form _real_ friendships, not the fake friends who had taken advantage of her brother. And she had done just that. But the payoff for her social life was that she was intellectually unchallenged.

Despite how easy the exam questions were, Bra simply couldn't concentrate. She knew that she should have been able to complete the test within fifteen minutes, if even that. But the end of the forty-five minute class period was less than ten minutes away. And still, she was only halfway through the fourth equation. So what was it that was distracting her? There was an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach. Something akin to... adrenaline? nerves? anxiety? But why? She had no reason to experience this build up of nervous energy. It must be that she was excited over her birthday celebrations later that day. An afternoon at the spa with Momma, followed by a massive party. Yea. That was it. She was just excited over her plans.

But how could she explain the sense of foreboding she was experiencing? _It's as if the air feels... off._ She shook that thought aside. _How redonkulous! I can't feel how the air is!_ The argument felt weak, however, as if she was trying to fool herself. It was almost as if the very air itself carried a vibration that was so subtle that it was undetectable by normal human senses. It seemed to pull at her. It called out to her; her blood seemed to thrum in sync with the soft, alluring pulse of energy in the air. Her hands were trembling, she realized. She flattened her palms against the surface of her desk, trying to settle her nerves. And that was when she felt a major shake rumble beneath her, a shock wave so great that her classmates felt it as well. Murmuring erupted around her as everyone discussed the possible cause of the disturbance.

_Was that an earthquake?_ Bra wondered. A minor one, perhaps, just barely strong enough to alert everyone to its presence. But no, that couldn't be right. There were two major flaws with that theory. First, the shock wave was too short lived to have been an earthquake. Instead, it felt as if it had struck her and then passed over her just as quickly as it raced away from its source. Second, she knew that West City didn't lie anywhere near any fault lines. So what had caused the unusual occurrence?

"Oh my God!" one of the students called out above the mumbles of speculation. "Look!"

Everyone followed his gaze out the window. The window faced West City and offered a perfect view. Except that perfect view was now tainted with billowing black smoke from some unknown location at the opposite side of the metropolis. Tests forgotten, the students and their teacher rushed towards the windows for a better look. They theorized what the cause of such smoke could be. A gas line broken during the earthquake, maybe? Or maybe a building that was not up to code had fallen over? On and on it went like this.

Only Bra had remained in her seat. _Something terrible is happening._ _But_ what_?_ _There must have been an explosion somewhere in the city. It's the only thing that could explain that shock wave and the fire fueling that massive cloud of smoke..._ Instinctively, she did what she usually did when she was riddled with unsettling thoughts and feelings; she reached out through her kinship bond in search of her brother's comfort and her father's reassurance. But when she reached out to them, she found... nothing. She reeled in her mental projection, gasping. _Why can't I feel Daddy or Trunks? _Her fears magnified tenfold with the inability to form a mental connection with her family. No, it was more than not being able to connect with them. It was as if they were... gone. Missing. Nonexistent.

The blue-haired teen mechanically rose from her chair and unconsciously grabbed her bag at her feet. She joined her classmates by the window. Shorter than them due to her age, she had to push her way to the glass pane. There was no difficulty in forcing her way through since she was so much stronger than them. The few students that she had gently shoved out of her way gave her odd looks as she did so, but with the more interesting mystery unfolding beyond their limited view of the city, they paid little attention to her sudden and inexplicable strength.

Bra reached the window and looked out. Thick, black, ugly smoke belched into the sky; its source lay somewhere on the other side of a large cluster of buildings in the distance. These buildings were among the first built when the city had been established and were dwarfed by the skyscrapers in the city center. If these historical buildings had been large like their newer counterparts, she doubted they'd have been able to see the smoke at all.

The blunette's eyes widened as she took in the sight. She knew exactly where that smoke was coming from. _It's coming from Capsule Corporation! _ The dread in the pit of her stomach intensified. She felt nauseous with fear. She slung her bag onto her back to free up her hands and then pressed both palms on the glass panel. She pushed. With little effort, the pane popped out from its frame; the window fell to the asphalt three stories below and shattered. Startled, her classmates backed away from the open portal, fearing for their safety and not realizing that the panel had been intentionally forced out. Ignoring her fellow students, Bra climbed onto the windowsill. A few of the students called out to her.

_ "_What are you doing?"

"Get away from there!"

"Bra, be careful! That's dangerous!"

She didn't listen to them as she hung out of the window. She launched herself away from the building. As she fell beneath the line of sight of her classmates, she could hear them gasp and cry out in alarm. But they had no reason to fear. Bra gathered up her ki beneath her and propelled herself skyward. The students gasped in awe and wonder as they watched her magically fly away towards the smoky distance. The teacher collapsed in a faint.

* * *

Once Bra was out in the open, the odd sensations she felt in the air had intensified. There was a strange hum, a subtle energy electrifying the air. It was peculiar and unfamiliar to her. Not unlike ki, yet not like it either. _What _is it_ that I keep feeling? Where is it coming from?_ Well... she knew _where_ it was coming from; from the direction of Capsule Corporation. But from _who_ was it coming? And _how_? And it was strong, too. Very strong. Its magnitude stirred her anxiety and the absence of her father's and brother's presence only exacerbated this anxiety. And at the same time, she felt drawn to it. She was compelled to investigate. If not for any other reason, she had to know what was going on. To make sure that her family was alright.

The closer Bra got to her home, the thicker and blacker the smoke swirling in the air became. She was close enough now to smell its acrid, horrific scent. And given the innumerable amount of different chemicals and materials stored at CC Headquarters, the smoke was likely extremely dangerous to inhale. She covered her face with a hand to try to block the toxic fumes, but of course it did little to filter the air she was inhaling. Her eyes watered and her throat burned, but she pressed on.

The yellow dome building that served as her home and her family's business came into view. Thick, ugly smoke was billowing out from the family wing. She froze in place overlooking her home. She gasped as she realized the horrors of this fact. _Grammy and Pappy were in there! Did they get out in time? Were they even home when the explosion happened? Are they alright? Where are they now?_ And then came the second important question. Because the smoke was coming from the family wing and not the R&D wing, as she had expected, she wondered, _how had the fire started?_

Bra approached the building. Emergency crews had not yet arrived. Capsule Corp. employees were fleeing from the building, racing from all exits. All exits except for the family wing, located on the west side of the dome. She landed on the side of the west wing where there were few people to see her in flight and where the smoke would obscure her from those who _could_ have seen her. She raced towards the patio doors which would take her into the kitchen. But an imposing figure suddenly filled the doorway from within, blocking her entrance into the building. She skidded to a halt.

The man preventing Bra's access to her home was humanoid, but definitely not human. He had dark purple skin and shoulder-length yellow hair that was so light that it looked almost white. He was very tall and his muscles were bulky. _Too bulky_, she observed, _like a Brute_. His body took up almost the entire doorway. He wore body armor from head to toe, but the armor was far different than the armor her father wore from time to time. This man's armor was sleek, formfitting, and black. Clipped over his ear was a communication device. And from the earpiece, a single lens was attached that sat in front of his left eye. Bra recognized it as a scouter. He pressed a button on the side of the scouter and she could see digits light up on the lens. The numbers stopped after a moment and the man's grin grew even wider. Too late, she realized, she should have lowered her ki.

His lips were parted in a gleeful sneer. His eyes were deep black obsidian pits filled with malice. They ran down the length of Bra's body and back up again, making her feel exposed, dirty, and vulnerable. The Brute took a step forward, crossing the threshold and onto the patio. Unnerved, Bra took a step back. The man took another step towards her. She stepped back again. Each time the teenager retreated, the man's eyes grew more predatory.

The Brute pressed another button on the scouter and then spoke in a language that Bra had never heard before. "O gu'eirv eruds ei'ar eid e jo ku'eis maigaim. O daiht chaa nov kaa ag zi'aa'er kmav vei." A pause while he listened to the response on the other end. And then, "Egsnevaig."

The look the Brute gave Bra caused chills to run up and down her spine. Fear pooled in the pit of her stomach. She bolted. The girl launched herself into the air. She needn't glance behind her to know that he was in fast pursuit. Tears formed in her eyes as terror filled her. She wished more than anything that her daddy or even her big brother were there to save her. The blunette attempted evasive maneuvers. She darted up and down, left and right. She used the billowing smoke a few times to try to throw him off of her trail.

Despite Bra's speed and agility, the Brute was quickly gaining on her. She realized she had no choice but to turn and fight. He would catch her soon anyhow, and with her father and brother missing, she was on her own. The blunette turned to face her pursuer just in time to block a fist that had been aimed at the back of her head. She reacted without thought. She blocked his fist with her left forearm. He pressed the attack with a series of blows. Left jab, right hook, right uppercut, left cross, right kick. To these, she also acted without thinking. Dodge, duck, block, dodge, block.

The blue-haired girl defended herself very well. In truth, she was absolutely terrified. Her thoughts were chaotic. _What do I do? I've never been in a real fight before!_ _Why am I being attacked? How am I going to stop him?_ She was too frightened to do more than defend herself. She was incapable of forming any offense. Her ability to formulate a plan of attack had oozed out of her the very moment this man began to chase her. Her current actions were fueled only by instinct and self-preservation.

Unfortunately, Bra's luck was about to change for the worse. She was focused on her attacker. Too focused. She hadn't detected the arrival of a newcomer. The teenager was taken by surprise with a brutal blow delivered to the side of her head. She immediately plummeted to the ground, crashing into her grandmother's garden. Fertilizer, wood chips, and flowers exploded upon impact.

Bits of dirt and debris rained down upon Bra's prone form. She didn't immediately rise from her impact crater. Instead, she quietly whimpered, clutching the left side of her face. Pain throbbed from her temple down to her jawbone. The girl sobbed. _Why is this happening to me? Where's Daddy? Where's Trunks? Why aren't they here to save me? _ The sound of two sets of feet setting down on the ground reminded her that she was not alone; that she couldn't afford to be weak and sniveling. She slowly sat up, opened her eyes, and looked upon the new arrival.

This one was a female. Much more slender than the male, but almost as tall. Her skin was a lighter shade of purple and her waist-length hair was a fiery red. Her armor matched that of her male counterpart and she, too, had a scouter. The woman's eyes were dark brown and looked upon Bra with a mocking pity. Her lips, painted a dark purple, smirked with evil delight. _Yes, you even look like a Bitch_, Bra thought hatefully.

The woman spoke to her comrade. "Es aa'ei cheis chai aiz dai vevs ag e zi'aa'er? Chai zaanz vei kedaivait vei naa."

"Chai nazv kaa ei'ar. Js ku'eis maigaim oz vei jo," he answered.

The Bitch hummed in thought. "Eiz dai zmairaiv uu'ig ur js. O ei'erv vei zaa og chai saa'etvz vei aiv."

The Brute pressed a button on a device strapped to his left wrist. Instantly, that bizarre energy that Bra had felt earlier flared to life once again. Now that she was at point blank range, the sensation was overwhelming. She felt as if she were drowning in it. It flowed over her and through her. The energy sang to a deep place within her core, triggering an indescribable and unnameable instinct. The teenager could feel herself surrendering to its call. She was slowly becoming a thrall to the power of the vibration. She was aware of this fact, but helpless to stop it. This paralyzing inability to shake off the effect it had on her caused her fright to escalate. Yet, at the same time, she felt soothed by the energy they were projecting at her.

Finally, relief came. The Brute pressed something on his wrist again, and the sensation stopped. Immediately, Bra felt as if she had been released from a hypnotic spell. She felt a wave a dizziness, but it was only momentary. The only lasting effect was that she suddenly felt empty and unsatisfied without the energy's influence on her. This hollow feeling of unfulfillment bothered her terribly. It indicated that the power of the sensation was too potent, too addicting... and too controlling.

Unfortunately for Bra, her situation was about to get even worse. A third intruder arrived. He landed gently on the ground, taking a place in front of the other two. _Their Boss, then_, Bra inferred based upon the fact that he placed himself in front of the others. His skin was almost as dark a shade of purple as the Brute. His height fell in between his male and female counterparts. His short cropped hair was a dark orange. He was muscular, but lean. His black eyes were stoic, calculating, drinking in Bra's form. She tried to appear confident under his scrutiny, but the aftermath of that energy wave hindered her.

Finally, he spoke. To her surprise, it was in human common. "You are a saiyan." It was not a question, but rather, spoken as a known fact.

The blunette's eyes widened a fraction. _How did he know?_ She mentally slapped herself. _The scouter, of course!_ _The Brute had gotten my ki reading and probably reported it to Boss-man here. They know I'm not like normal humans. But their first guess is that I'm a saiyan? How could they have immediately come to that conclusion? Was it that energy wave they hit me with? Was it meant to cause a reaction only in saiyans and no other species? It seems probable... _ But she refused to confirm his spoken observation. They weren't going to get any information from her if she could help it. Bra scowled defiantly at her attackers as she rose to her feet. She winced momentarily, pain caused by her earlier impact shot up and down her left side.

But the Bitch grinned triumphantly, having inferred the confirmation from Bra's silence. "Ah, you _are_ saiyan!" she replied, using the human language – and butchering it horrifically. "You scowl exactly like scoundrel prince. Daughter you must be. Though, coloring is odd. But coloring of son of prince was odd too."

Bra mentally cursed. _How could they have figured it out so quickly? Am I being careless?_ Apparently, she wasn't schooling her features very well... _But the Bitch is being careless too. She compared me to Daddy and Trunks. So they must have already run into them. That's the only explanation. How else would they know how they look? And since they must have encountered Daddy and Trunks, then they must know what has happened to them._

The Boss spoke again. "She is the last one, then." His subordinates nodded. "Once we have dealt with this one, this planet shall be cleansed of the saiyan plague."

Bra's eyes widened fearfully. _Her Daddy. Trunks. Uncle Goku. Gohan, Goten, and Pan. What did they do to them?_ She shook with rage. She felt sick with fear. _They were all so strong! How could these... _people_ have possibly defeated her saiyan family and friends? Wasn't Uncle Goku one of the strongest men in the universe? Wasn't her father a very close second? How could this have possibly happened?_

"What did you to do them?" Bra demanded, trying and failing miserably at holding back tears of anger and grief. She tried to sound strong, but even in her own ears, she sounded meek.

The Boss obliged her an answer, but it was vague. "We have neutralized the saiyans inhabiting his world. We have guaranteed that no more harm will come as a result of their actions."

Bra didn't understand. _What harm have any of them ever caused? They all live peacefully here on Earth. All of them have saved the Earth many times over. Uncle Goku liberated the galaxy from Frieza's tyranny. And then he and Daddy saved the universe from evil Buu's sadism. What did they do wrong?_

"You're making a mistake," the teenager argued pitifully. "They were all _good_ people." She wiped away a traitorous tear that had spilled down her cheek.

The Brute and the Bitch snickered at her as if she were a naïve little girl. The former mocked, "Girl thinks saiyans good! Ha!"

Bra was insulted. And rightfully so. "They _are_ good," she insisted, but then realized how childish she sounded. No wonder they were amused by her. She could feel her face burn with embarrassment.

The Bitch rebutted, "No saiyans are good. All saiyans make war and death. Know nothing of love. No value for life."

"You're wrong," the teenager growled.

"Your father is the saiyan prince, Vegeta, yes?" the Boss inquired.

"Would it make a difference whether I confirmed or denied it?" Bra snapped.

The Boss answered her question. "I suppose it does not, though I suspect that you are indeed the daughter of the vile prince."

"Don't call him that," Bra demanded, but her request was ignored.

"The prince of all saiyans. Vegeta II. He, of all the saiyans, was the most despicable. All of the crimes committed by the rest of the saiyan race _combined_ are nothing in comparison to what your father wrought in his youth. You, little girl, are sprung from the seed of a monster."

The blunette shook with fury. _How can this jerk stand there and spew such horrific lies? Daddy is a good man! Sure, he's a little rough around the edges. Yea, he's often difficult and stubborn. And everyone knows that he can be impatient and short-tempered. And, yea, sometimes he fails to acknowledge important events – like my birthday today. But that doesn't mean Daddy isn't a good person! He's also fiercely loyal and protective. He's honest with everything he says and does, even if the truth is brutal. He always makes himself available to me and Trunks whenever we need his advice or guidance. And although he has a funny way of showing it, I know that Daddy loves us._

The Boss could see from Bra's defiant glare that she refused to believe the allegations against Vegeta's character. "I see you are disillusioned. Your father has told you nothing of his past, has he?"

"He's told me," the blue-haired girl insisted. But the truth was that very little had actually been revealed to her. She knew of her father's indenture into Frieza's army. She knew that he had been forced to work against his will for the arcosian prince. But he had never actually told her what that had consisted of. This black hole birthed a fraction of doubt in her mind.

The Boss picked up on her uncertainty. "Prince Vegeta has committed atrocities too many in his lifetime to count. He was Frieza's favored pet, loosed upon the galaxy. He was an enslaver of many races. A murderer. A slayer of entire species. And a destroyer of worlds."

Bra felt her world fall out from beneath her. _Was this true? Did Daddy _really_ do those things? No_, she refuted. _He's lying. He's just trying to unnerve me. Daddy's never hurt anyone who wasn't evil. Right? As far as I _know_ he hasn't done anything bad._ But the Boss had planted the seed of doubt in her mind and she no longer knew what to believe.

_They're gonna kill me cuz Daddy was a bad guy_, Bra fretted. _Just like they killed Daddy and Trunks and Uncle Goku and everyone else! _Bra wiped away another tear that had spilled from her eye. She hadn't realized that she had been crying. She hated looking so weak and vulnerable. She cursed herself.

_ Dammit Bra, pull yourself together. Don't listen to him!_ _This guy is trying to confuse you! You have to think straight. Remember... Daddy taught you how to fight. You have to fight, to save yourself, so that you can save everyone else later. _

_ But I can't fight all three of them at once,_ she knew.

_Of course not. That's why you have to get them to split up. _

_ But how? _

_ Lie to them, convince them_.

_ ...Okay._

Bra sniffled. "So... that's why you... why my Daddy and my brother are d- d- ...gone?" She couldn't force the word _dead_ past her lips.

"Yes," answered the Boss.

"And Uncle Goku's family?"

"I presume you are referring to the saiyan known as Kakarot. Yes."

_Okay, Bra. Here we go..._

"And Auntie Celera? Mr. Kale? Soy? All of them?"

This time the Boss didn't immediately answer. But his face remained stoic, hiding whether or not he believed her. The Bitch and the Brute, however, showed concern and alarm. They looked to their leader with questioning looks, not that he could see their faces behind his back. They waited for his next order. The Boss continued to scrutinize the blue-haired girl.

_Come on, Bra! Make it convincing!_

The teenager hiccuped. Fresh tears fell down her face. "You _did_ get them all, didn't you?" She let her face crumple in grief. This grief came a little too naturally after she spoke her last sentence, knowing that _'all of them'_ included all of her loved ones.

It was enough to convince the Boss. "Go," he ordered his comrades. "Sweep the planet for these other saiyans. After I've finished with this one, I shall join you."

The Bitch and the Brute waited no longer. They immediately launched themselves into the sky, heading in opposite directions. _Good. They took the bait. Now you can take this guy. _

But Bra still had her doubts. _How am I supposed to do that? This guy is stronger than the other two are. _And _he was able to defeat Daddy and Trunks and everyone else. How am I supposed to beat him? _

_ Fight dirty._

_ What? Fight dirty? But that's dishonorable!_

_ Was it honorable when that Bitch sucker-punched you? Was it honorable when they stunned you with that device? Was it honorable when the three of them had you surrounded and were going to off you?_

_ Well... no..._

_ No, it wasn't. This stopped being honorable the moment they started killing your friends and family. And what good will honor do you when _you're _dead too?_

_ You're right._

The Boss, seeing Bra's vulnerability, continued his spiel by recalling a personal account, intending to break her resolve further. "Prince Vegeta is the very culprit who destroyed my home world. Only myself and my two siblings are the survivors. Every last one of my people are gone, by your father's hands, snuffed out with little more than a passing thought. Mine is only _one_ example of your father's heinous crimes, of all the atrocities he committed."

Bra shook with a long list of emotions. Fury and fear were at the top of that list. Anger at his words. Afraid that he was right. Anger at herself for standing there like a fool. Afraid that she would continue to stand there. Her tears were beyond her control at that point and it made her face burn with shame. _I don't want him to think I'm weak. I don't want him to see me as easy prey._

But in that moment, an idea formed in her mind. _No, _let_ him see you as scared and helpless. _Let _him think that you are powerless to stop them. And when his guard is down... strike!_

The blunette poured on the waterworks. "No, Daddy isn't like that," the blunette pathetically sobbed. "You're wrong." She let her tears flow freely now. Her enemy showed no pity, but she could see that already his posture had relaxed. _Good. Now I need a distraction_, she plotted. She knew exactly what to do.

"I'm afraid not," the Boss patronized. "And now, I'm sorry to tell you, but it's time to end this."

The intruder stepped towards Bra. The teenager stepped back, faking a stumble while doing so. _He'll think I'm clumsy,_ she knew, _and all the better to ease him into a false sense of superiority._ Sure enough, his grin widened, reflecting the gain in his confidence. He stretched a hand out towards her, gathering red ki in the palm of his hand. She timidly ducked her head. She brought both of her hands up to her face to wipe away her tears, shutting her eyes tight as if to rid them of the unwanted moisture.

_ Now for the delivery,_ she thought.

Instead of clearing her face of her tears, she lifted her outstretched hands to the sides of her face and called out, "SOLAR FLARE!"

Her adversary's scream signified her success. Bra wasted no time. She launched herself at the intruder. She threw a series of attacks at him. Blinded by the _solar flare_, the Boss was unable to defend himself. She threw a right uppercut to his chin. A left and then a right jab to his stomach. He hunched over. She kneed him in his face. He stumbled backwards as blood gushed from his nose. She lunged forward, closing the sudden gap, and threw her right elbow into his sternum. He gasped for air. Relentlessly, she kicked him in the left side of his head with her right foot, connecting with the scouter attached there and shattering it to pieces. He staggered to his right.

By then, the Boss's sight began to return. Bra threw a left hook at him, but he was able to dodge it. She didn't give up, however. She followed it with a right cross, but this time he blocked it. She thrust her left knee at him. He countered with a left hook of his own. It glanced off of her cheek. The contact, while it didn't hurt much, still shocked her. The Boss pressed his attack with several jabs. Right, left, left, right, left. She blocked the first two, took the third to her ribcage, the fourth to her jaw, and barely ducked below the last.

_Come on, Bra! You aren't fighting dirty!_

_That's right!_ she realized. Still crouched beneath the Boss's last attack, Bra delivered a powerful uppercut to his groin. He doubled over in pain. _Keep going!_ She kneed him again in the nose. And again. The Boss weakly reached a hand up towards her and blasted her with ki. The blunette released her opponent and staggered backwards, clutching her singed face. New tears sprung from her eyes.

Her opponent was recovering. He stumbled to his feet, one hand still cupping his groin. He gritted his teeth in anger. The blood from his nose streamed over his mouth and coated his teeth. Bra blinked the tears from her eyes. She dropped herself into a fighting stance. She expected the Boss to make the next move; she was suddenly intimidated by the fury on his face. Instead, he quickly schooled his features and reigned in his temper. He wiped the excess blood from his face and inspected it. Then he grinned at her, a cross between malice and amusement.

"You know, you almost had me fooled," the Boss scoffed. "I was almost convinced that you were an anomaly among the saiyans. I began to think that you were completely naïve and sheltered from your saiyan ways. For a brief moment, I began to wonder if you even _were_ a saiyan. But I see now that that's not true. You've more than proven to me that you are just as ruthless and sadistic as the rest of your despicable race."

Bra bristled. "Stop saying that! We _aren't_ evil or despicable or _any_ of those things you keep saying!"

The Boss ignored her rant. "You see, I _was_ going to be merciful. I _was_ going to make your end quick and painless. But I see that that simply will not do. Since you refuse to believe what you are, what your species has done, what your father truly is, I feel that it is only fitting that you should find out for yourself. And after you have faced this reality, I shall let you cling to the rest of your days suffering with the brutal truth."

The blunette was perplexed, yet skeptical. "What are you talking about? What are you gonna make me do? Write a research paper about it? Oh, wait, I know! You're gonna make me watch old home movies of your planet's demise!"

It was a low blow, and she knew it, but if she could unnerve him like he had attempted to do to her minutes before, then perhaps she could regain the upper hand. His response, however, was little more than a slight narrowing of his eyes. He raised his right hand and gathered energy into his palm.

"Tsuuruu zgais."

The Boss released the red sphere of ki from his hand. Bra braced herself for the impact, crossing her arms in front of her. The energy connected with her. To her surprise, it didn't hurt. It did, however, seem to consume her. It washed over her, covering every square inch of her body, encasing her in a cocoon of foreign energy. It puzzled and amazed her, yet frightened and alarmed her. The teenager had only a moment to ponder her situation when she felt as if she were being lifted off of her feet. _That_ was when the pain started.

Bra felt as if her body was collapsing into itself, forced into a single point deep within her core. The experience was excruciating. She screamed in pain. She curled in on herself, writhing in agony. And when she felt that she could no longer tolerate it, the discomfort disappeared. The next thing she knew, she was falling.


	2. Lesson Two

_Lessons From My Father_

_Lesson Two  
__Blending In_

_ One of the very first things I remember Daddy teaching me was how to control my ki. The first part of this was knowing how to suppress it. This was also the safer part. One inexperienced with ki manipulation couldn't be expected to be able to safely raise and handle his or her ki on the first try. It was much safer to try to suppress one's ki to prevent something unfortunate from occurring. _

_ I was three years old when I had my first lesson in ki control. I'm certain that this lesson came to me much later in my life than it had for Trunks, but I've been told that he had an inclination for combat at a much earlier age than I ever did. Unlike my brother, my lesson was not born from a desire to fight. Although, it _was_ created by the same competitive instinct. For me, the lesson came about during a childhood game._

_ On that day, I was crying when I entered the kitchen of my family home. I was angry and upset and all I wanted was to be left alone. So I had left the party taking place outside on the patio to go somewhere isolated to pout. Instead, I ran into my father who, likewise, had desired solitude over socialization._

_ "Why are you crying, girl?" Daddy's question came out stern and would have likely intimidated normal girls, but I was not_ _a normal girl and had nothing to fear from his gruff demeanor._

_ "Pan an' Marron are chee'in'."_

_ A dark eyebrow perked. "Cheating? At what?"_

_ "Hi' 'n see'."_

_ "You mean, 'hide and seek.'" _

_ "Ya, hide an' see'. We were playin' in Grammy's gahden and dey a'ways fine me! It's not fair!"_

_ "And how do you suppose they are always able to find you?" Daddy's question – and method – was typical. Instead of solving my problems for me, he made me examine the source of my conundrum._

_ I took a few moments to think about his query. What did Pan and Marron do differently? _

_ "Cuz dey can feel me," I answered._

_ "And what do you suggest you ought to do to rectify that?"_

_ "Make it so dey can't feel me," I knew, but the answer only made me upset all over again because, "But I donno how to do dat!"_

_ Daddy sighed. "Come with me, girl," he gently spoke and held a hand out to me. _

_ I took his hand and let him guide me to the Gravity Simulation Room. He shut and locked the door behind us. I had only been inside the GSR once or twice before that point in time. I marveled at the interior of the room within which Daddy spent so much of his time. My wonder made me forget how upset I had been._

_ "Sit," Daddy told me. _

_ I obeyed and plopped down in the middle of the room. Daddy sat down on the floor in front of me, facing me, with much more grace than I had exhibited._

_ "Do you know how to identify your ki?" he asked._

_ I thought again. I had an idea, but how to describe it? "Is it like... doze happy bubbles in my tummy dat wants to come out?"_

_ Daddy lifted an eyebrow in that way he does when he isn't sure how to respond. "Sure..." he finally answered. "Close your eyes."_

_ I closed my eyes._

_ "Concentrate on those... bubbles."_

_ I thought about the bubbles. I imagined that they were floating around inside my body. I imagined that they were big and pink and pretty to look at._

_ "Now, I want you to catch one of those bubbles."_

_ Alarmed, I opened my eyes. "But Daddy! If I try an' catch it, it 'ill pop!"_

_ Daddy took a deep breath, I think to calm his slight annoyance. "These bubbles won't burst when you touch them. Now close your eyes and try to catch one."_

_ I closed my eyes again and thought of the bubbles. I watched them float around until one in particular caught my attention. I imagined myself floating over to it, reaching my hands out to catch it, and then the bubble gently floated down to rest in my hands._

_ Without opening my eyes, I said, "I got one, Daddy."_

_ "Good," he answered. "Now catch another."_

_ "Okay." I watched as another bubble drifted close to me. I reached one hand out towards it and it came to me obediently. "Okay, I got anudder. Now what?"_

_ "Good," Daddy said again. "Now put the two bubbles together."_

_ I imagined that I brought the two bubbles together. When they touched, they became one bigger bubble. "Daddy, it got bigger," I whispered._

_ "Keep going," he instructed, "until all the bubbles are one."_

_ I smiled. "Dat's gonna make one big bubble, Daddy!"_

_ I heard him chuckle, but he said nothing. So I set to the task assigned to me. I imagined that I was collecting all the bubbles floating around inside of me, one at a a time. I added each one to the growing bubble in my left hand. It grew larger and larger in size. When I added the very last bubble to the rest, the bubble was almost as big as I imagined myself to be._

_ "Okay, Daddy. I got dem all."_

_ "Very good," he said. "Now I want you to make that one big bubble smaller."_

_ "Smaller?"_

_ "Yes. Smaller. But remember, it won't break, no matter how small you make it."_

_ "Okay."_

_ I focused on the big pink bubble. It was a shame that I'd have to make it smaller as it was the biggest bubble I had ever seen – well, imagined, anyway. And it was so pretty, too. I imagined that I was putting both of my hands on the bubble. The span of my arms barely wrapped around half of its circumference. I began to push the sides of the bubble inward. It was difficult at first. The bubble resisted. But I could feel that it was very slowly getting smaller, little by little._

_ "Very good, Bra. You're doing well. Keep going," Daddy encouraged._

_ I don't know how Daddy knew that I was shrinking the bubble at all. It was in _my_ imagination. How could he see it to know how I was doing? But I kept working at it. The longer I pushed at the bubble, the easier it became to make it smaller. I could feel the space between my arms growing smaller. Soon, I was able to touch my fingers together at the other side of the bubble. By then, it became much easier to shrink it. It was no longer almost as big as myself. Half my size. Then quarter my size. Then the size of my favorite stuffed bear. I squished the bubble down even further still. Until finally, it was so small that I could fit it into my hands. It was no bigger than the size of the first bubble I had caught._

_ "Okay, stop," Daddy said. "Now, what do you notice? How do you feel?"_

_ I stopped shrinking the bubble. I thought about how I felt. And it suddenly hit me all at once. _

_ "I'm sleepy," I realized. I tried not to yawn._

_ "That is the illusion of exhaustion. Your body is not accustomed to being without its ki. With practice, you won't be affected so strongly when you suppress your energy."_

_ I opened my eyes with surprise. "I made my ki small?"_

_ Daddy grinned. He looked proud and happy. "Yes."_

_ "Can you feel me, Daddy?"_

_ "Just barely, and only because I'm sitting right in front of you. Now, all you need to do is remember how you suppressed your energy and practice. Before long, you will be able to do it without thought."_

_ "An' I'll win at hide an' see'?" I asked._

_ "You will be more successful, yes," Daddy answered. "Whenever you find that you need to avoid an adversary, remember to suppress your ki first, then take evasive action, and finally, blend into your environment."_

_ I gave Daddy a big smile. "Thank you, Daddy!"_

_ At that time, I thought Daddy was helping me win at a child's game. It was only after many years later that I realized that he had been teaching me a lesson in survival._

_~from The Memoirs of Bra Briefs_

* * *

Date: Unknown  
Location: Unknown

The first thing Bra was aware of was the varying levels of pain throughout her body. The side of her face throbbed mildly. Her arms, while feeling as weak as limp noodles, suffered a consistent and dull ache. Her legs tingled from loss of blood circulation and they felt as if hundreds of tiny pins pricked deep into her muscles. Her back groaned from the discomfort of whatever she was laying on. All of these aches and pains were categorized subconsciously. Because it was the excruciating pain in her left side that won her attention.

Bra lifted her right hand to grasp at the source of her strongest agony. The simple act was slow due to the lack of strength in her limbs. But when her hand came to rest on her side, she felt an abnormality. Instantly, anxiety and adrenaline raced through her. Her eyes popped open and she looked down as best as she could to visually assess the damage. She lifted her hand slightly away from the wound to find her palm coated in red. Blood. And a lot of it.

The blunette looked at her side. Piercing her red baby-doll t-shirt was a piece of scrap metal; about six inches were visible. And that scrap of metal had penetrated her side. Squeamish by the sight of her injury, she quickly looked away. Her panic began to escalate. The thought of the injury, the tear in her flesh, the exposure of her inner layers of skin and muscle, the possible depth the object had impaled her, and all the blood oozing from the wound. All of these thoughts struck fear in her all at once.

_Calm down. If I panic, then I won't be able to do anything rational about it,_ Bra told herself. She took a deep, relaxing breath. She forced down her anxiety. She mentally separated herself from the wound, looking at it as if it were a problem to be solved and not like it was a life threatening injury. The teenager looked at the wound once more. Yes, she was bleeding a lot, but she wasn't hemorrhaging blood. She studied the entry point and examined the piece of metal protruding from her side.

_Okay, I have two options. I can either remove it and risk causing the blood to flow more freely. Or I can leave it in to staunch the blood flow, but risk injuring myself further._ While she contemplated her choices, she gingerly wiggled the metal piece back and forth, doing so only fractions of a centimeter. She gauged how deep it went based on how deeply she felt discomfort. She winced as a sharp pain lanced through the location of the wound. But reassuringly, the pain didn't run too deep. _Okay. The wound is shallow. I think I can remove it._

Very, very carefully, the demi-saiyan pulled the metal out of the wound. She gritted her teeth as the pain intensified with every millimeter that emerged from her flesh. After several agonizing minutes, the object was free. She covered the inch-wide wound with her left hand while she further examined the freed piece of metal. Now that it was out of her, it didn't look so bad. About an inch and a half had imbedded itself into her side. Too shallow to have struck any internal organs. But deep enough to have lacerated her muscle tissue. Satisfied, she tossed the shrapnel aside. She again peeked at the wound in her side. It was still bleeding, slowly and steadily. She was grateful for the enhanced healing abilities of her saiyan heritage.

Covering the wound with her hand once more, Bra turned her focus to her surroundings. She was laying on a pile of scrap metal, explaining the uncomfortable place she had found herself and how she had likely come to impale herself. Slowly, she sat up, minding the aches in her back and the soreness in her side. She noted that without the metal impaling her, the wound was less painful. Yet, it was still a hindrance.

Once the teenager was sitting upright, she looked around further beyond the trash heap she had settled on. She had kind of expected that the debris she was laying in was the remains of Capsule Corporation. But as she looked around, she realized that her surroundings were too unfamiliar to have been the compound. _The dome, the gardens, the swimming pool, the courtyard... Where were they?_ she wondered. There was absolutely no evidence that any of these things had once stood around her. In their places were piles of trash, debris, and shrapnel as far as she could see.

_So... if I'm not at Capsule Corporation, then where _am _I? Where did those aliens take me?_ The reminder of the aggressors caused alarm to rise in her. _Wait a minute. Where did they go?_ She hadn't noticed their presence – or lack thereof – until that very moment. They couldn't have been so careless to have let her slip away from them, however she had done so. They wouldn't have been so merciful to have ceased their attack after she had sustained an injury. So where were they?

Bra wasn't going to take any chances should they be in the vicinity. Although she had destroyed the scouter worn by the Boss – she remembered doing that – the Bitch and the Brute still had theirs. They could easily find her by her ki if she wasn't careful. Immediately, she pushed it down as far as she could afford. As her ki diminished, her wound became more painful and she began to bleed a little more heavily. But she conceded that she would have to bear with it.

The blunette carefully rose to her feet. Still clutching the wound on her left side, she slowly climbed down from the pile of debris. She could have easily levitated down to the ground, but that would have required her to increase her ki... and expose herself to whoever may be watching. Her footing slipped a few times, but she didn't stumble. Eventually, she made it to the bottom of the heap, placing her feet on solid ground.

Again, Bra looked around. Her view from the bottom of the debris pile was far worse than it had been near the top. Surrounded by mountains of trash, she had no sense of direction. _Which way is out?_ she wondered. Which direction should she go? She couldn't immediately decide. But she soon realized that _any_ direction would eventually lead her out of the junk yard. The only difference between one direction and another was how long it would take her to find her way out. So she picked a random direction and began to walk.

Bra decided to check the GPS on the smart-watch her Pappy had given her to keep track of her route. But she found that the GPS function was not working. Instead, she took note of where the sun was in the sky. It was low to the horizon, so she had only an hour or so before she'd lose the only system of navigation she had at the moment. She kept the sun directly to her right side as much as possible. Orientating herself to the sun like so, she knew that she was walking relatively towards the south.

The sun had almost set by the time the demi-saiyan had found the end of the junk yard. When she stumbled out of the wasteland, she almost hadn't realized she had come to its borders. There were no fences to mark the end of the property. The only reason she had realized that she had left the garbage dump was when she noticed that she was walking on a road.

The road really wasn't much of a road. It was very narrow and wasn't paved at all. The earthen street was trod on so often that the dirt was so tightly compacted that no plant life could grow. Trash and debris littered the edges of the street, which was why she hadn't initially realized that she had emerged from the junk yard. Among the discarded pieces of garbage, she could see that shanties sporadically dotted the avenue. If it weren't for the fact that the scraps of sheet metal and plywood had been carefully assembled, she would have thought that they were just more piles of useless and discarded material.

Bra continued to walk down the street. As she traveled further, she noticed that the shanties grew in greater number and frequency. Despite the evidence of people living here, she had yet to see anyone around. But that was about to change.

The teenager rounded a sharp bend in the road. And saw three strange looking creatures. She was startled by their presence, but moreso by their appearance. _They're so... creepy!_ she observed squeamishly. They were very short, about half her size. They were insect-like. Light green exoskeletons. Four limbs, however. Not six. They had large, black, multifaceted eyes. Antennae. Paper-thin wings hung from their upper backs. Oddly shaped mouths. They walked by her without giving her a single glance.

As Bra watched them round the bend from where she had just come, she immediately knew that she was far from home. _Very_ far from home. Whatever those creatures were, they sure as hell didn't exist on Earth. _Where did that Boss-man send me?_ she wondered._ How had he sent me here? And how am I going to get home?_ With all these questions swirling in her mind and with no answers to comfort her, she continued walking down the avenue as if in search for a way to solve her predicament.

As the blunette continued onward, her surroundings slowly began to change. Litter still decorated the street, but it wasn't as thick as it had been outside of the garbage dump. The buildings on either side of the road were no longer quite as shabby. They were sturdier and built from better materials. They were constructed much closer together and much taller than they had been several miles back, making her feel almost claustrophobic. From these larger buildings, she saw more of those strange, insect-like aliens coming and going. Like the first three she had encountered, they largely ignored her. It was almost as if they were too afraid to confront her. She theorized that she must have been walking down a residential street in a very poor neighborhood.

It was not long before Bra saw an intersection up ahead. The lights illuminating the street up ahead were like a beacon in the fading natural light. Although evening was setting in, the foot traffic was thick up ahead. She saw that not everyone out on the other street were one of these bug-creatures. She couldn't make out details from this distance, but she could see enough to know that the non-insect aliens appeared humanoid. The little bug aliens outnumbered the other races by four to one. Yet, they appeared to be submissive to their larger humanoid counterparts. No wonder those she had passed by thus far had ignored her – this behavior was normal to them.

When the demi-saiyan reached the intersection, she immediately noticed how much wider the perpendicular street was compared to the narrow one she had emerged from. When she looked back down the road she had walked down, she observed that, by comparison, it looked like a very long and narrow alley. And rather dark. It suddenly felt very creepy.

Bra turned her attention back towards the main thoroughfare. The buildings here were much nicer than the slums behind her. Shops and open markets. Inns and hotels. Bars and restaurants. Street lamps lined the street and lit up the local businesses. The insect aliens scurried about, performing their duties and tasks. Like they were servants. Unlike the bug-creatures, the humanoid aliens appeared to be at ease, taking their time as they traveled to their destinations. The teenager realized that if she were to maintain her low profile, she'd have to blend in with the humanoid creatures.

But therein lay a problem. There were several species of humanoid aliens. None of them actually looked human. They had different shades of skin; hues of blue and red and green and so on. Their hair colors and styles were just as exotic. Some were completely covered in fur and some were completely hairless. There were humanoids that had all the normal facial features. But some had extra characteristics such as a second set of eyes or a pair of horns protruding from their brows. Others lacked certain features such as noses or ears. The most bizarre aliens had extra appendages, extra arms or legs. Some had tails; scaled or fur-covered, depending on the species.

_How do I blend in if I don't look like any of them?_ she fretted._ Or does it matter as long as I behave as if I belong here? Are there so many different races here that no one will notice that I'm the only half-human/half-saiyan person?_ From her corner, she watched the various humanoid aliens. When she saw a group that were clearly female – not all of them were easily identifiable by gender – she observed their behaviors and their styles of dress. If she was going to blend in, it only made sense that she emulate the typical behaviors of the female residents.

The female aliens walked down the street in groups of twos or threes, always with confidence in their steps. Occasionally, they'd stop and talk with another humanoid alien. Sometimes they would join up with these other aliens, laughing and socializing like old friends. But always, they ignored the insect-like creatures.

The females' clothes were rather plain, compared to the stylish fads that the demi-saiyan was accustomed to on Earth. The fabrics that they wore weren't very flashy or expensive. The colors were bland and faded. Their shirts, pants, dresses, etc. didn't fit very well either, as if they had to make do with what they could obtain. Some articles of clothing hung off of thin frames. Others were so tight, it was hard to imagine the wearers being able to squeeze into them.

Bra looked at her own clothing. Her red tee-shirt, made of soft cotton, hugged her torso comfortably. She wore faded blue denim short shorts over black, skin-tight leggings. Her suede brown boots and her pink backpack – which had miraculously stayed on her during all of her ordeals thus far – finished off her ensemble. It was a comfortable and fashionable outfit that had been fairly inexpensive to purchase. But it made her look extraordinarily rich compared to the native women. She chuckled at herself. _How silly of me. Of course, I _am_ extraordinarily rich. But I can't look that way if I don't want to draw attention to myself._

The blunette slipped her backpack off, wincing as the motion irritated the wound in her left side. She opened the main compartment and dug out the hoodie she had stored away. It was an old and faded garment, a plain gray color with the Capsule Corporation logo on the upper left breast. Carefully, she put it on, trying not to further aggravate her injury. Once it was on, she left the hood pulled up over her head to disguise her features. Then she slipped her backpack back on. It wasn't a perfect disguise by any means, but at the very least, it helped.

Bra stepped out from the alley and joined the crowd. Once she was there, she wasn't sure which direction to go. A trio of humanoid women passed by her. She decided she would follow them for a while, see where they went and how they passed their time. Maybe they would lead her to someplace useful. She stayed behind them by a few paces. Far enough that they wouldn't know that she was trailing them but close enough that others might think that she was part of their group. In the sporadic artificial light, no one would likely be the wiser.

They walked for several blocks, passing by street vendors selling bizarre produce and unusual gadgets. The women ignored the solicitors. At the opposite end of the market, the women came to a sudden stop to talk with a pair of men. Bra quickly stopped so that she wasn't discovered and pretended to examine some merchandise on display at the nearest booth. The women spoke cheerfully with the men, but Bra couldn't make out what they were saying. The foreign words were a garbled combination of hard consonant sounds.

The teenager was so caught up paying attention to the trio of women and pretending to be occupied with the merchandise in front of her that she was taken by surprise as a hand clamped down on her right elbow. She quickly spun around. A somewhat humanoid male with thick black fur covering him from head to toe towered over her. Only his face and his hands were hairless. His yellow eyes bore into her cerulean ones.

"Unk jo utchokugk?" he asked.

Bra shook her head. "I'm sorry. I don't understand." She tried to pull out of his grasp, but his massive three-fingered hand tightened around her elbow.

"Kutch ush, gshik kish. K gush jo u ngutch tchitch!" The beast leered at her. His lips split into a lecherous sneer, revealing a mouthful of crooked, yellowing teeth.

"Stop it!" Bra demanded, pulling her arm away from him with greater force. The effort caused her injury to flare with pain. She winced and immediately relinquished her resistance to ease her pain.

The aggressor roughly jerked her towards him. "Jonk kutchish shik tch, jo kik junk!"

Injured and afraid, the blunette did the only thing she could think of at the moment. "Let me go!" Bra screamed. She called forth her ki, empowering herself to fight off the beast. With a ki infused fist, she punched the alien male in his throat. His grasp on her elbow instantly released as he stumbled backwards, clutching his neck. Her assailant was a weakling, she realized. She had likely fractured his windpipe.

As the beast fell to the ground with a heavey thud, choking and gasping for air, Bra noticed that everyone surrounding her had grown still and silent. They stared at her with shocked and petrified expressions. Even the insect-like aliens had stopped what they were doing to look at her. Dread filled the pit of her stomach as she realized that her cover had been blown. _Oh hell. How am I going to slip back into hiding now? _Before she could answer that question, she noticed that the rear of the crowd began to part. A pair of men were shoving their way through the throng of aliens. Heading straight for her. The dread in her stomach deepened.

The two men who stormed towards her were revealed to be soldiers. Perhaps the only police force available. _Their uniforms look a lot like Daddy's training armor_, she noticed. Unlike her father's armor, which covered only the torso and was colored gold and white, theirs were gold and dark blue and had a lot of cumbersome padding that covered the shoulders, arms, and legs. But the basic design was the same. Seeing this familiarity settled the uneasiness in her stomach. _They're wearing armor similar to Daddy's... So they must be good guys, right?_ she reasoned. In addition to the suits of armor, the soldiers wore bulky helmets. Each helmet had a single lens that covered one eye. _Something similar to a scouter?_ she pondered. In addition to their armor, each one had a pistol-like weapon strapped to a hip.

The soldiers were humanoid, but were different species from each other. One was very tall, had skin made of yellow scales, slitted green eyes, no nose, and short snow-white hair. The other was average height, had pink skin, four pupil-less blue eyes, a pair of tusks from his lower jaw, and long jet-black hair. Neither one was entirely pleasing to look at, but the sight of the authority figures actually made Bra feel a little better. For starters, they could protect her against that hairy alien that attacked her. And hopefully, they would be able to tell her where she was and what she might be able to do to get back home.

The soldiers first went to the fallen alien to assess his condition. One of them asked him something in that garbled language of theirs. But the creature was unable to speak with the injury to his throat. So the soldiers addressed the crowd.

"JU G NKIGNGUSHGIGK SHUNK TCHIG?" the lizard-like soldier demanded over the mutterings of the crowd.

Almost instantly, half of a dozen hands or claws pointed directly at Bra. _Uh oh._ Their singling her out was definitely a bad sign. That dread filled her stomach once more. The two soldiers turned towards her, and began closing the distance between her and them.

"Jo unk gish tchikushtch shunk oshukunkinktch og ush gi sh kig gikunk. Jo shik shuk nkigigk unk ki ngishuki guk gi jonk tchik," the pink-skinned soldier said to her.

Of course, the demi-saiyan had no clue what he was saying. But his authoritative tone, their aggressive stances as they walked towards her, and the withdrawal of their weapons from their holsters could only mean that she was in very deep trouble. She didn't know what faux pas she had committed, nor did she know why they were protecting the beast that tried to assault her. Were there no self-defense laws in this place? Was that hairy alien someone of importance? She didn't know. The only thing that was clear to her was that it would be very bad for her if she allowed these soldiers to reach her.

Again, Bra wondered, _How do I get away?_ The least of her worries was the very large crowd with the dozens of sets of eyes on her. Most concerning were the two soldiers closing in on her, weapons pointed at her. If these pistol-like weapons were anything like the guns on Earth, then she didn't have much to worry about. However, she knew nothing of the nature of their weapons nor what they were capable of. And with her ki still suppressed to a level lower than she was accustomed to, she feared that even a human-crafted bullet could harm her at that moment. She couldn't risk their provocation.

There was only one thing the teenager could think to do. _I hope this works,_ she prayed. Just as the lizard-like warrior reached his free hand out to grab hold of her wrist, she closed her eyes and concentrated. She imagined that she was seeing an image of herself; an exact replica of what she looked like, what she was wearing, and how she was standing. And then she moved. Quicker than the blink of an eye, she evacuated her space and fled into the nearest alley. Where she had once been standing, a convincing replica of herself remained.

The lizard's clawed hand clamped down on the wrist of the after-image. But instead of grabbing hold of something solid, his hand passed right through the doppelganger. The false Bra dissipated a moment later, like a cloud of mist dispersing into thin air. The lizard was a mix of bewilderment and anger. His partner was shocked. The bystanders were mystified. From the entrance of the alley, Bra watched as both of the soldiers pressed buttons on the sides of their scouters and began scanning the area.

The blunette pushed her ki down even lower as she withdrew into the shadows of the alley. It was dark and dirty and smelly. With the onset of night, the alley was completely dark and served to conceal her very well. So dark, she was essentially blind. Against her instincts, she held her left hand out to her side, finding the grimy alley wall, and using it to guide her direction. She felt fuzz and slime beneath her fingertips, but she gritted her teeth and bared with it. Although she had successfully escaped from those soldiers, her mind was not yet at ease. She might be well hidden here, but anyone else could be hiding here too. And she wouldn't know it unless she was confronted.

Worse yet, the pain of her injury swelled once again. With her ki reduced to the lowest levels she could manage, and with the effort she had used to flee from the soldiers, the wound had taken a turn for the worse. Bra slipped her free hand beneath her clothing and rested it over the location of the injury. She noticed that her skin felt sticky and damp. Concerned, she brought her hand to her face and, since she couldn't _see_ her hand in front of her face, she scented it. The metallic tang of blood assailed her olfactory sense. Just as she had feared, the wound was bleeding heavier than it had been before. She knew that she needed to get it treated soon.

With that thought in mind, Bra continued onward in search of somewhere safe where she could tend to her injuries.


	3. Lesson Three

_Lessons From My Father_

_Lesson Three  
__Tend Your Wounds_

_ During the earliest years of my childhood, I had relied on the fact that someone would always be around to take care of me. Not only did I have my parents to raise me, I also had a brother who was twelve years my senior to watch over me, and a pair of loving grandparents to dote on me. But there came a day when I had to learn to take care of myself. That day came when I was only six years old._

_ It seemed as if the planets had aligned on that day. Grammy and Pappy were away on a cruise vacation. Momma had gone to East City for a last minute business trip. Trunks was away at graduate school. That left only myself and Daddy at home. Of course, this meant that I was practically left to my own devices... unless I wanted to join Daddy in the Gravity Simulation Room. Which is not what a six-year-old girl looked forward to doing. _

_ Don't get me wrong; Daddy didn't completely ignore me during this weekend. He _did_ come out of the GSR periodically – to make sure that I was fed and clothed and staying out of trouble. But for the most part, I had to feed and entertain myself. And that was fine by me. I had become quite self-reliant at a young age. I watched a few cartoons in the family theater room, played dress up with my dolls using Momma's fashion magazines for inspiration, and chatted it up on the phone with Pan or Marron. I was completely content._

_ But being home almost completely alone stirs a desire to fill a more important role in the household, even if it's only temporary. Essentially, my six-year-old self wanted to be 'the lady of the house,' if only for a day. So that was when I decided I would attempt to make lunch for Daddy. And because I wanted to do it all by myself, I didn't utilize the servo-bots to help me. I wanted to do it all by myself. Grammy always said that the yummiest dishes were the ones made from scratch._

_ The problem was that I knew Daddy ate a lot and at the time, I really didn't know how to cook anything. So I decided I would keep it simple and make Daddy and myself some sandwiches. Lots of sandwiches. I made ham sandwiches. Turkey sandwiches. Cheese sandwiches. And peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. _

_ When I was putting away the peanut butter, I saw that we had cans of tuna fish, so I decided to add that to the menu as well, despite the difficulty I usually had with the can opener. At first, I was doing well; I got two cans open with relative ease. But the can opener didn't open the third one quite right. I had to pry the lid out from the can. As I wedged my fingers into the narrow gap and tried to pull the lid out, I felt a sharp pain shoot through my fingertips. Reacting, I dropped the can and clutched my injured digits._

_ When I was brave enough, I opened my hand to inspect the damage. Blood seeped out from two fingers on my right hand. A lot of blood. I panicked. I clenched my left hand back over the wounds. Tears welled in my eyes, from the pain and from panic. I ran out of the kitchen and towards the GSR. I blinked away the tears as best as I could since neither of my hands were free to do so._

_ "Daddy!" I wailed when I reached the door to the GSR. Through the kinship bond I shared with my father, I bombarded him with my fear and despair._

_ The door flew open less than a second later; Daddy, drenched with sweat and with panic in his eyes, filled the doorway. "What's wrong? What happened?" he asked as he knelt down to look at me. I could feel his heightened concern through the bond._

_ I held up my hands. "I cut myself," I sobbed._

_ He gently opened my fingers to look at the damage. His panic and dread immediately vanished as he inspected my wounds. And then he grinned. A 'Vegeta grin,' that is – a small tug at the corners of his mouth. I felt him try to comfort me through our link, and I admit that it helped. But seeing my blood drip on the hardwood floor countered his efforts._

_ "Calm down, girl. You'll be alright." _

_ I hiccuped as I tried to stifle my tears. "O-okay."_

_ "Come. Let's get you fixed up."_

_ I clamped my hand over my fingers once again as I followed Daddy through the corridors all the way to the Med Lab. On a Saturday afternoon, the staff was almost non-existent. The few people that were on duty gave us curious glances, but did nothing to question us or to interfere. We entered a small supply room. I sat down in the only chair in the room while Daddy rummaged through some supplies. My tears had begun to ebb by this point, but my fingers still throbbed. I tried to take my mind off of it by watching Daddy, even though I couldn't see what he was doing with his back turned to me._

_ Finally, Daddy turned around to face me. "I'm going to teach you how to mend this," he said. "Do you know the first thing you need to do when you're injured?"_

_ I sniffled. "Momma always washes it first."_

_ "That's correct. Come here." _

_ Daddy turned on the faucet for me since both my hands were covered in blood. I hopped off of the stool and went over to the sink. The water was luke warm. I didn't want to look upon my wounds, but knew I was going to have to. I unfolded my fingers and watched warily as the water washed away the red stains. The wounds stung a little from the liquid running over them. Blood continued to seep from the injuries, immediately diluted as it mixed with the tap water. Dread filled me as I wondered how long it would be before I stopped bleeding._

_ Daddy looked over my shoulder as I rinsed my fingers. He said, "Don't fear your injuries. The worst has already passed. Your condition can only improve from this point forward. Tackle this like you would tackle one of your school assignments."_

_ I tried to look at my injuries objectively, like it was a math problem that needed to be solved. To put myself outside of the problem and work my way to a solution, step by step. Despite this method, I was still troubled. I couldn't quite remove myself emotionally from my predicament. What six-year-old could?_

_ Daddy continued. "You are lucky to have saiyan genetics. If you were human, those wounds would require stitching."_

_ I felt a little better knowing this. But only a little. His words meant that my cuts were rather deep. But at the same time, I was reassured that they weren't _too_ deep for a saiyan to handle. In the scope of injuries that a saiyan could sustain, these were mere scratches. Despite this, Daddy's lesson continued._

_ "Now that you've cleansed the wound, you will want to disinfect it."_

_ I was a little confused by this. "Why do I need to disinfect it? I thought saiyans don't get sick."_

_ "They don't," Daddy responded, "...usually. Though your ki will most likely destroy any infection, there remains a chance – albeit small – that microbes can adapt to your saiyan immune system."_

_ I nodded as Daddy retrieved the anti-bacterial cream from the assortment of first aid supplies resting on the counter. As he untwisted the cap, I grabbed a terry cloth from next to the sink and patted my hands dry. The cuts continued to bleed, but slower than before. Daddy handed me the tube of ointment. As best as I could, given that my fingers still bled, I applied the medicine. Or, I tried to._

_ "I'm bleeding too much. The cream won't go on the cuts."_

_ Daddy suggested, "Raise your ki a little and the bleeding should diminish some."_

_ I did as he said. I wiped my fingers again with the terry cloth – the anti-bacterial ointment wasn't applying well anyhow – and raised my ki a bit. When I removed the towel from the wounds, I discovered that there was only a trace amount of blood._

_ "It worked," I breathed._

_ Daddy nodded once. "Of course it did. So long as you have sufficient ki, you will be able to accelerate your rate of healing. Without access to your ki, your injuries will heal slower, but not as slow as a mere human."_

_ Wordlessly, I reapplied the cream. The anti-bacterial ointment stung as it came in contact with the exposed inner layers of my skin._

_ "Good," Daddy said as he watched my progress. He handed me a few adhesive bandages. "You don't likely need to cover those wounds, but I want you to do so anyway. You are not practiced at using your ki to heal yourself. So I want you to keep those covered until they have healed."_

_ "Okay, Daddy," I answered as I worked one bandage around my index finger. _

_ "When you are more experienced, you won't need to resort to such rudimentary methods. But should you ever find yourself unable to use your ki, you will have to rely on your ability to mend your wounds in primitive ways." _

_ I finished wrapping my middle finger. "All done," I declared as I showed the finished task to Daddy. My fingers were still a little tender, but overall I felt a lot better now that the cuts had been taken care of._

_ Daddy inspected my work. "Very good," he praised. "Now. What were you doing that caused you to injure yourself in such a manner?"_

_ "I was making you lunch."_

_ "Really," his response came out more like a statement than a question of doubt. "Then I suppose this lunch is extra special given all the trouble you've put yourself through to make it."_

_ I smiled as Daddy led me out of the Med Lab and back into the Family Wing..._

_ At the time, I didn't realize that Daddy was really teaching me anything at all. I merely thought that he was taking care of me, even though he didn't do much other than offer instruction and supervision. A few years later, I looked back and realized that he was giving me the tools to see myself through any future situation where I might need to perform first aid on myself. Not just the "how-to" but also the state of mind to get me through such a situation._

_~from The Memoirs of Bra Briefs_

* * *

Date: Unknown  
Location: Unknown

After the run-in with the security forces and nearly being apprehended for an unknown crime that she had allegedly committed, Bra continued to slink down the dank and dark alleyways of the mysterious alien city she had found herself in. The puncture wound in her side was plaguing her more and more with each step she took. Pain laced through her body. Her skin was sticky from the blood that continued to seep from the injury.

The alley twisted and turned the further the blunette went. In the dark of night, she couldn't make out the types of buildings on either side of her. She only knew that they were there. If she wasn't concerned with drawing attention to herself, she would have flared her ki to illuminate her way. Occasionally, she felt something like the frame of a doorway. But not a single one gave way under her efforts to open them, as if they were sealed shut. In truth, she preferred not to enter any of these unlit buildings anyway, since she had no idea what she would find inside. But her need to find somewhere secluded grew more desperate with every step.

Eventually, Bra found herself at the other end of the long alley, emerging onto another main thoroughfare. This one, however, was much less crowded than the one she had left behind. Though it wasn't lit very well, it wasn't nearly as dark as the alleyway. Once again, the buildings were small, unkempt, and made from a hodge podge of scrap materials. Only a few were lit from within, indicating that they were occupied. The rest were completely dark – either they were abandoned or the residents had retired for the night.

The teenager kept to the shadows as best as possible as she walked down the street. She had no desire to draw attention to herself once again. There were a couple of the strange insect-like aliens out on the street. Like the rest, they paid her no mind. Still, she kept away from them, paranoid that any one of them had seen her in the market when she had pushed that furry male alien beast away from her.

Bra rounded a corner and found another residential neighborhood. But this one seemed completely abandoned. The housing here was dilapidated at best, collapsing at worst. She walked half of a block, inspecting each building for any signs of activity. After passing by a dozen of these shack-like dwellings and finding no noticeable evidence that anyone lived in these crumbling buildings, she picked one to try to break into.

The demi-saiyan pushed aside the metal slab that served as a door to the nearest house. She was met with little difficulty, given that there was no lock and that the door was hanging by only one hinge. She had to duck a little to fit through the doorway and once she was inside, she had to maintain her slouched posture so she didn't hit her head on the ceiling. Inside the wood and sheet metal structure, the air was dry and dusty. It was too dark to see. No longer on the street, she was unafraid to use the flashlight function on her smart-watch.

Bra found that the furnishings were very sparse. There was a pallet covered in musty blankets in the far right corner of the room. A fireplace and oven-like structure made of stone filled the far left corner. A few half-charred logs sat cold in the fireplace. Several pots and cooking utensils were scattered on the floor. Many of these appeared to be caked with food remnants that had long ago dried out or molded, leaving an unpleasant, but faint, odor in the air.

Next to the fireplace was a large black basin sitting beneath a vertical pipe that lead upwards through the ceiling. Inside the basin was a liquid that appeared to be water. It was too dark to see exactly what the mystery fluid was, even with the aid of the flashlight. The house had no other distinguishing features aside from the random bits of litter on the floor. Overall, it appeared as if this house had been unoccupied for several months.

The fifteen-year-old girl carefully slipped her backpack off of her shoulders and set it down near the bed. Then she eased herself out of her hoodie. She unstrapped her smart-watch from her wrist and positioned it on the side of the fireplace in such a way that the flashlight cast its beam across the entire room. Lifting the hem of her red baby-doll t-shirt, she did the best she could in the dim light to visually inspect the wound in her side. In the dark, her blood looked like a black stain on her porcelain skin. The flesh around the wound felt hot and swollen.

_I've got to take care of this_, Bra worried. _I hope it hasn't already gotten infected._

The blunette knew that she didn't have any type of first aid material in her backpack, aside from a half-empty bottle of pain reliever. And this shack she had come to occupy looked barren of any supplies as well. She surveyed the room to see what items were available to her in lieu of actual medical items.

Bra mentally listed off what she had. _There's water. I can use that to clean out this wound. But the quality is questionable. I could sterilize the water; I have a place to make fire. But I have nothing to start it with except for my ki. Would anyone notice if I raised my ki – even just a little bit?_

The teenager decided that it wasn't worth the risk. _There's gotta be something here to use to start a fire,_ she reasoned. She fumbled around the dimly lit room, feeling the different objects strewn about. Eventually, she found something useful. _Ah ha!_ She mentally cheered as she discovered a flint-like tool on the floor next to the fireplace.

There was enough old wood sitting in the fireplace and the charred parts would make for a good coal base once a flame was going. Bra added scraps and bits of trash from around the room for kindling, stuffing it under the logs. Very, very carefully, she worked the flint-stone. Sparks offered an incremental amount of light as she dragged the pieces against each other. After several attempts – she had never had to start a fire without the use of her ki before – she got the fire going. A flame sparked to life, consuming the easily combustible materials.

Bra continued to add to the small flames, feeding it until it was strong enough to ignite the thicker logs. Once the fire was large enough to fill the room with a soft, orange glow, she retrieved her smart-watch from the mantle and turned off the flashlight function in order to conserve its battery. Then she moved onto her next task.

The demi-saiyan searched through the small amount of battered kitchenware, looking for one that was suitable for her needs. Eventually, she found herself a small metal bowl that was neither dirty nor too damaged to hold water. She filled the bowl from the water basin and set the bowl on top of a bed of hot coals.

While Bra waited for the water to come to a boil, she searched the room once again for something that she could cover her wound with. Ideally, she would have used her ki to stifle the blood flow and to cauterize the puncture, but again, that wasn't an option unless she wanted to attract attention to herself. The only items available that she could use to make bandages out of were the moldy bedding material on the cot and her own clothing.

At first, the fifteen-year-old was opposed to the idea of destroying the only things she had to wear. _I'm totally not going to ruin my clothes,_ she protested to herself, despite the fact that her t-shirt was already stained with her blood. She daintily lifted one of the blankets off of the bed with her forefinger and thumb, making as little contact with the filthy object as possible. Disturbed from its resting place, the cloth released dust motes and mold spores into the air. Along with them came a dank and musty smell.

Bra wrinkled her nose in disgust and dropped the offensive material. _Ugh. That's so rank. No way I'm putting that on me, even if I wash it._ She sighed, resigned to the fact that she'd have to destroy one of her articles of clothing. _But which one?_ she wondered. As she weighed the pros and cons of each thing she was wearing, she suddenly remembered, _Oh yea, I have my gym clothes in my bag!_ Her intent had been to bring them home for washing that weekend. How fortunate for her that she had decided to do so.

The halfling girl dug through her backpack and retrieved the pink tank top and grey cotton shorts. She saved the tank top for now as a spare to change into. The shorts, she decided to sacrifice. Carefully, she ripped them into long, narrow strips. She wasn't even bothered by the fact that her gym clothes weren't the ideal level of cleanliness; they were far better than the half-rotted bedding that she had almost considered using.

The water was simmering by the time Bra had finished making bandages from her gym shorts. Using the sleeves of her hoodie to protect her hands, she removed the hot bowl of water from the bed of coals. Since she had nothing else to use to clean her wound, she removed her t-shirt and dipped a bloodless section into the water. In such a strange and foreign land, she was a little wary to remain shirtless for any duration. But it was for the better; she'd be able to clean the wound easier this way.

The blunette applied the hot and wet cloth to her injury, eliciting a hiss through her teeth. She did her best to wipe away the blood clinging to her skin. She could only hope that she had already cleared the wound of all debris since the firelight was too dim to see perfectly by, even with her enhanced saiyan sense of sight. Several times, she had to switch to a new section of her shirt when the part she had been using became too soiled to use.

When Bra was satisfied with cleaning the area around the injury, she decided to give the wound itself one last rinse. She laid back on the floor – as gross as it was – and poured a small amount of the cooling water over the opening of the injury. She felt, better than saw, the water trickle over the wound and down along her side towards her back where it then dripped onto the floor. She set the bowl down and sat back up when she was done.

_Now to close it,_ the teenager thought. While using her ruined t-shirt to keep her blood from seeping out of the wound all over again, she found a small scrap of metal and placed it into the fire. She waited and watched the flames. After several minutes, she figured that the scrap metal was hot enough. She grasped the cool end and then mentally braced herself.

_This is the only way to do this,_ Bra coached herself. _You can't use your ki to cauterize the wound. You'll have to do it the hard way._

Quickly, before she lost her bravado, the demi-saiyan pulled the t-shirt away from her side with her left hand and applied the hot end of the metal piece to her wound, only looking away after she was certain that she'd seal the wound in one shot. The sound and smell of searing flesh filled the room. She whimpered quite audibly as fresh pain lanced up her side. At that moment, she could have cared less if any passersby had heard her. Tears sprung from her eyes and streamed down her cheeks as she endured her self-inflicted pain.

Bra braved the torment and kept the hot metal pressed to her skin for only a few seconds, but those few seconds felt like several minutes of agony. When she felt that her skin was successfully sealed shut, she gently pealed the scrap metal away from her seared flesh. As soon as it was separated from her skin, she violently threw the hateful bit of trash away from her, wishing to erase any memory of its existence and the pain it had wrought.

Hesitantly, the halfling opened her eyes and looked down to inspect her work. _Don't be afraid to look. The worst is behind you now,_ she reasoned. Her skin looked angry, welted, and was an ugly white-pink color. It was closed shut and was no longer bleeding. But she didn't care about her success at that moment. She dwelt on the pain burning into her side and the ugly blemish bubbling from her skin. _With my luck, it's probably gonna leave a scar,_ she lamented with a trembling lip. _A big skugly scar._

With tears still rolling down her face, Bra began dressing the wound. The pain continued, unrelentingly. She had no burn ointment to comfort the new injury, so she had to apply a dry patch of cloth directly onto the burned area. The cotton fabric felt itchy and only irritated her sensitive skin more. She almost didn't have it in her to use the long strips to tie around her middle to secure her makeshift bandage into place. Finally, she slipped into her tank top, being careful not to further irritate her injury.

Suffering from the pain, the blunette began to regret her recent decision. _I shouldn't have tried to cauterize it. I should have just kept it bandaged until the bleeding stopped on its own._ She wanted so badly to raise her ki, to accelerate her already impressive healing abilities, but she knew that she could not. Helpless to do anything more to improve her situation and having no immediate goal in front of her, now that she had tended to her injury, she was left with nothing to do but to fall into despair.

_Why is this happening to me?_ Bra cried. _Why did those assholes do this to me? To my family? My friends? What did we ever do to them?_ She wiped the tears from her eyes. For the first time since her predicament began, she had an opportunity to grieve. _Momma. Daddy. Trunks. Grammy and Pappy. I miss you all so much right now._ She couldn't bear the thought that they were all dead. Fresh tears fell down her cheeks. _How could this have happened? It's not right! It's not fair! This should never have happened! I should be home right now with my family. I don't want them to be dead. And I don't want to be here – wherever here is. I just want my family..._

The demi-saiyan curled up on herself, drawing her knees up to her chest, and wrapped her arms around her legs. She quietly and uncontrollably sobbed into her knees. Her heartbreak was terrible and potent. And it was only exacerbated by the absence of the kinship bond with her brother and father, constantly reminding her of their deaths. For the first time in her life, ever, she felt completely alone, isolated, scared, and hopeless.

Bra cried until she ran out of tears to shed. As her sobs ebbed into occasional hiccups, however, she felt no better. She felt completely despondent. And the pain from her injury only made her more miserable. Every sniffle, every hitch in her breath, only inflamed her wound. As her breathing slowly evened out, she took notice of how drowsy she suddenly felt. Her trials and ordeals, her grief and crying jag, had taken a lot out of her.

_I wish I could just fall asleep and not have to wake up,_ the fifteen-year-old lamented. _Maybe this is all just a bad dream. Maybe I _will_ wake up and none of this will have ever happened._ But she knew that that thought was too good to come true.

_So you're just going to give up?_ that combative voice from deep within her finally reared its ugliness again.

_Oh, so you're back,_ Bra sassed herself.

_ I sure am. And about time, too, from the way your wallowing in pity._

_ Unless you're here to help... go away._

_ Oh, I see. So soon you've already forgotten the advice I gave you that got you through the fight with those aliens._

Bra rolled her eyes. _Some help _that_ was. It got me landed here, didn't it?_

_ Yea, it _did_. You gonna cry about it... again?_

_ Shut up. I shouldn't have listened to you._

_ Oh? So you were just gonna let them kill you?_

Bra knew the futility of arguing against that logic, and so, she did not.

The inner voice continued. _So you were sent to some unknown world. So what? You're alive, aren't you?_

Again, Bra refused to respond, refused to acknowledge the valid point.

_That's right. You _are_ alive. You are a survivor. Which means that you can do something about all of this._

_Like what?_ Bra snapped.

The voice took on a mocking tone. _Oh, I don't know... How about save your family and friends?_

_ How am I supposed to do that? They're all dead._

_ Aren't we forgetting something?_

Bra's eyes lit up. "The dragonballs," she whispered.

_Ding-ding-ding! We have a winner!_

_ I can't believe I didn't think about it before! I've been so wrapped up in everything that has happened..._ A ghost of a smile graced Bra's lips.

_ That's right. You're going to find your way home and you're going to wish everyone back to life. Like it never happened._

The grin instantly fell. _But how am I going to get home?_

The voice offered a little reassurance. _You're Bra Briefs. You'll figure it out. But not tonight. You can worry about it in the morning. Right now, you need to get some rest. You're exhausted. You _are_ having a conversation with yourself, after all._

Bra nodded. _You're right,_ she admitted. Her eyelids were puffy from her tears. They felt heavier in their swollen condition, drooping with her drowsiness. She conceded that she needed to get some sleep. She wasn't in the most ideal place; it wasn't safe or secure by any means. But it would have to do. No one had molested her since she had broken into this abode, so she figured it was no worse than anywhere else she could have chosen to bunk for the night.

The blunette placed her backpack along the wall near the fireplace, opposite the water basin. Carefully, she put her hoodie back on. The temperature had begun to drop, despite her small fire, and it would most likely continue to drop throughout the night. Her fire had just about burnt through all its fuel. She added another log to the shrinking flames to keep it going a little while longer. She cleared a space on the floor in front of the fireplace and curled up on her right side, putting the fire to her back. The ground was hard and lumpy, but it would have to do. There was no way she was going to sleep in that health hazard that served as a bed. She used her backpack as a pillow, to try to create some semblance of comfort. Despite her discomfort and the lingering pain in her left side, Bra quickly drifted off to sleep.


	4. Lesson Four

_Lessons From My Father_

_Lesson Four  
__Signs of Deception_

_ One of the hardest lessons I had to learn was how to protect myself against the deception of others. It was one that had a heavy emotional toll, but Daddy was there to guide me through it._

_ One afternoon, when I was thirteen years old, I was getting ready to go on my very first date. I was so excited and nervous. As Momma was helping me style my hair, the doorbell rang, indicating that my date had arrived._

_ A few minutes later, I went downstairs to greet him, and found that Daddy and Trunks had already introduced themselves to Bass. I immediately picked up on the tension in the air, but made no indication of it. After introducing Bass to Momma, I momentarily excused myself from the family room to grab a light jacket. Daddy had followed me._

_ "I hope you and Trunks didn't terrify Bass too terribly," I said wryly._

_ In a flat tone, Daddy answered, "I believe I asked him all of the mandatory questions typical of human courting customs."_

_ I grimaced. "Is that all? You didn't threaten him or intimidate him or anything?"_

_ Daddy ignored my sarcasm. "I'm not fond of the idea of you going out with him. He is too old for you."_

_ I sighed. "Daddy, he's only five years older than me."_

_ He continued without missing a beat. "If this were saiyan culture, I _might_ not have an issue with the difference in your ages. But I have come to understand that in human society, such a discrepancy is not favorable."_

_ "It's just a date, Daddy. It's not like I'm gonna marry him."_

_ There was a pause, and then he said, "I don't trust his intentions with you."_

_ "You're being a skitz. Bass won't try anything. Besides... I really like him. And I think he really likes me, too."_

_ "You're smitten with him and it's blinding you."_

_ "Daddy, I just want a chance to do something that normal girls my age do. Is that so wrong?" I asked in exasperation._

_ Daddy's expression soured, but he relented. "No. It's not. But please pay close attention to him. I don't want him to try to take advantage of you."_

_ "Don't worry. That'll never happen. I'm way stronger than him. I'll be fine."_

_ "Have a good night," he bid me as he left the room._

* * *

_Bass drove me into downtown West City. We parked in the lot of a cozy little eat-in restaurant. It wasn't any of the exclusive establishments that I often went to with my family, but it was far from a cheap diner or, worse, a fast food joint. With a big grin on his face, Bass jumped out of the car first and ran around to my side to open my door for me. I thought it was so romantic._

_ As we approached the front door of the restaurant, Bass suddenly stopped me._

_ "It's such a nice day out. It would be a shame to waste it indoors. Why don't we eat outside instead?"_

_ "Okay," I easily agreed. I admitted that the day really was quite lovely._

_ We entered the restaurant and Bass asked for a seat out on the patio. The waitress was more than happy to comply. The patio was on the side of the restaurant opposite the parking lot. The patio bordered the sidewalk out front; the former was separated from the latter by a short iron fence. Foot traffic on the sidewalk was light. And because the buildings in the area were smaller than most in the city, they allowed the sun to pleasantly shine down upon us. Eating outside was a wonderful idea._

_ Or so I thought._

_ It wasn't long into our date that things began to go south. Bass apparently wasn't much of a conversationalist. I tried to engage him in conversation, but he didn't seem very interested in some of the typical topics; movies, interests, etc. I tried to ask him questions about himself, and received short answers in return. It was as if he was suddenly shy. I suspected that Daddy and Trunks had said something to him that caused him to act so withdrawn._

_ We ate our meal in relative silence. This date wasn't living up to the expectations I had fantasized about. I was feeling disappointed and dejected. I was feeling so miserable that I had actually lost my appetite, and that's saying a lot for someone of my caloric needs. Towards the end of our meal, I managed to draw my attention away from my half-eaten meal to try one last time to engage Bass in conversation._

_ "What's wrong?" I asked him._

_ Bass, who had been staring off beyond the patio fence and into the distance, snapped his attention to me. "Eh? What? No. Nothing's wrong."_

_ "Then... why are you acting so... weird?"_

_ "I'm not," he answered with a little too much insistence. _

_ Bass's focus returned to the street to his left – my right. I followed his gaze, wondering what could possibly be more interesting than paying attention to what was going on – or _not_ going on – here at our table. When I looked back at him again, I couldn't help but to notice that he wasn't exactly staring off into space. His eyes were too focused, constantly darting back and forth as if he were looking for something._

_ I was getting annoyed at his absent company. "I'm getting kind of chilly," I declared. "I think we should go inside." It was a little white lie, but I was tired of whatever distractions the street traffic was offering him and wanted to eliminate the source from our date._

_ His eyes darted to mine again. "We can't do that," he replied hastily. "It would inconvenience the waitress. Let's just stay out here."_

_ I was unhappy with the decision, but remained seated. The waitress came and dropped off the bill. Bass showed no acknowledgment that she had come and gone. His focus remained on the street. Bored and ready for this debacle to be over, I took the initiative and collected the bill._

_ "I'm gonna go pay for this," I announced and rose to my feet._

_ Bass suddenly turned to face me again. He stood up and latched onto my hands – the gesture would have been very romantic if the mood hadn't been so foul – and said, "Babe, why are you in such a rush? Sit with me a little longer, and then we'll go. I promise. Okay?"_

_ Against my better judgment, I sat back down. He pulled his chair next to mine and sat down, getting rather cozy with me. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders. I was still quite suspicious of him, however, and noted that his eyes went back out to the street._

_ "Why do you keep looking away like that?" I demanded._

_ He glanced at me. "I'm not," he said in an innocent tone._

_ "Yes. You are. What are you looking for?"_

_ "Nothing, Babe. I'm just admiring the view, watching the people as they pass by. Have you ever just sat and people-watched? It's quite fascinating. You learn a lot from a person just by paying close attention to them, even if its only for a few seconds."_

_ Bass's words somehow resonated within me. They reminded me of the words Daddy had said to me before I had left on this date. _"...pay close attention to him..." _So I did. Bass's eyes continued to dart around. He wasn't really admiring the view or observing the passersby. He was... waiting for something or someone. Despite the cool breeze, a light sheen of sweat shone on his forehead. His free hand repeatedly tapped the surface of the table. And he was bouncing his left leg on the ball of his foot. All nervous ticks._

_ "Why are you so wired?" I asked him._

_ "I'm not wired," Bass tried to answer smoothly. He immediately ceased his ticks to prove it. He reached up to move a lock of hair out of my face. "You know that you're the most beautiful girl at school, right? It's just... I can't believe you would want to go out with me when you could date anyone at school. I guess that's why I'm so nervous. I just don't know what makes me more special to you than all the others. That's all."_

_ All of my anger and annoyance instantly evaporated. I was blown away by his open honesty about his insecurities. I was ready to forgive him for his aloofness during the entire evening. But then a strange scent hit my nose. Discretely, I drew the smell in deeper, gauging and scrutinizing it. It was pungent, salty, and laced with a bitter tang. It was offensive; I felt repelled by it. It made me feel... deceived._

_ I tried to pull away from him, gently, so that I didn't accidentally harm him. "What's this all about?" I demanded. "What's going on?"_

_ "Nothing's 'going on,'" he insisted._

_ That was when a flash of light lit up my peripheral. I looked over to my right, and saw someone with a camera leaning over the short iron fence just as he snapped another photograph – of me and Bass. I was instantly alarmed. I turned towards Bass as another flash fired._

_ To my surprise, I saw a large grin spread across his face. His eyes were focused on the photographer as yet another photo was snapped. All traces of his anxiety were gone. Suddenly, Bass was exuding an air of confidence and triumph. I wasn't sure what had just happened. I was totally confused._

_ Bass pulled me closer to him. "Don't be so tense, Babe. It's just a few photographs. Think of it as a souvenir of our wonderful evening together."_

_ I grew frustrated. "This evening hasn't been wonderful at all! What is all this? Did you arrange to have someone photograph us? Is this why you've been so vacant?"_

_ "Calm down. You're blowing this out of proportion. I'm sure you've had plenty of paparazzi take your photograph before. How is this any different? Just go with it. If he's gonna get our picture, we might as well make it a good one, right?"_

_ "I don't want to do this," I protested as several more flashes went off. I stood up to leave._

_ Bass jumped to his feet and grabbed my hands again to stop me. "Oh, come on, Babe. Don't be a downer. Play along. Have fun with it. Hey, why don't we give him something _really_ worth photographing? Let's give him a nice shot of us sharing a kiss! How 'bout it? Just imagine the headline... 'Capsule Corp. Heiress Bra Briefs Sharing a Smooch With Beau, Bass Ringstir, Lead Guitarist of Upcoming Rock Band _Sporadic_' What do you think? Kinda catchy, huh? Now how 'bout that kiss?"_

_ Bass tried to move in close to kiss me. The photographer continued to snap pictures of us. My attention was focused on trying to keep my distance from Bass's face. I leaned away from him, but he was persistent. I was growing aggravated and frustrated. I didn't want to forcefully remove him from my person, but my patience had hit its limit._

_ "I said, 'I don't want to do this!'" I yelled at him._

_ In that moment, I reversed the hold on my wrists so that I was the one grabbing onto him. I spun around fast and threw him over my shoulder, flipping him over as I did so. He went sailing back-first, upside-down, into the brick wall of the restaurant. Fortunately, I hadn't thrown him too hard and the wall stopped his momentum. He slid to the ground, dazed. Unfortunately, the photographer had continued taking pictures during the entire feat of strength. At that moment, I didn't care. I opened my purse, threw down a wad of cash, and hopped over the patio fence._

_ I marched away from the restaurant, still furious. But that fury quickly melted into other emotions; embarrassment, shame, and humiliation. I couldn't believe that I had been so naïve. I was so upset with myself that I had allowed myself to be taken advantage of. When Daddy had warned me of Bass's intentions, I had automatically assumed that Daddy feared that Bass would try something physical with me. With my superhuman strength, I had had no fear of being vulnerable. I now realized that I could be victimized in other ways._

_ A few blocks away from the restaurant, as I turned down a vacant street, I heard a pair of feet gently meet the ground to my right. Without looking, I knew that it was Daddy. Apparently, in my distress, I had failed to suppress the flow of my emotions through the kinship bond with him. Although I didn't really want anyone to see me in that moment, I didn't object to his company._

_ "Oh, Daddy," I lamented as I turned into him. _

_ Tears that had been carefully locked away suddenly sprang to life as I cried into his chest. He was quiet as he held me in a loose, but warm, embrace. I felt him run a hand down the back of my head, soothingly, as he absorbed my emotional suffering._

_ After my tears ran their course, I admitted to him, "You were right, Daddy. Bass didn't care about me. He just wanted to get some photos of himself with me published in order to boost his own popularity. I can't believe I was so stupid."_

_ Daddy growled. "Don't you ever say that about yourself," he scolded. "You are _not_ stupid. Young... yes. Inexperienced... yes. But never stupid. Don't you confuse the two."_

_ I pulled away from him and wiped the remaining tears from my eyes. "You're right. But I still feel..." I didn't know how to explain what I was feeling._

_ "Violated?" Daddy supplied. _

_ I nodded. _

_ "It's not unusual to feel that way. That boy deceived you. He took advantage of your trust and twisted it to suit his own selfish desires."_

_ "Yea, and it was so obvious, too. I just didn't understand the signs until it was too late."_

_ "But now you recognize what to look for the next time some worthless leech tries to deceive you. You will be better prepared to handle such a fool in the future."_

_ Again, I nodded. "I just wish I didn't have to learn it this way."_

_ Daddy tightened the hug reassuringly. "Just be glad that this is the way you had to learn such a lesson. In my youth, I was not so fortunate to understand deception in such a mild form."_

_ We were quiet for several moments as I considered this, but eventually, my mind wandered back to my own encounter. "Daddy, there was a paparazzi there. I think he got pictures of me throwing Bass into a wall. If those pictures get published..."_

_ "Don't fret, girl. That is something we will concern ourselves with later. Now, what can we do to salvage this disastrous evening?"_

_ Although Daddy hadn't taught me directly what to look for when an individual was attempting to deceive me, he impressed upon me the importance of paying attention to even the smallest nuances of a person's behavior. This skill proved to be a vital one many times throughout my life._

_~ from The Memoirs of Bra Briefs_

* * *

Date: Unknown  
Location: Unknown

When Bra began to stir from her slumber, she found that her muscles felt extremely stiff and that her right side was simultaneously sore and numb from having slept on that side for so long. She stretched to work out the kinks in her muscles. Instantly, she regretted it. The wound in her left side – the one she had cauterized shut the night before – flared to life with searing pain. She hissed through her teeth as she immediately curled in on herself.

At first, the blunette couldn't remember why she would be feeling such extreme pain. But slowly, the events of the previous day came back to her. The fight against the three purple-skinned aliens, her arrival on this strange world, and the encounter with some of the locals. And then she remembered where she was. She had fled into the slums and broken into an uninhabited shack where she had treated the worst of her injuries and then fallen asleep.

Bra opened her eyes. Faint light seeped into the room from outside, leaking through dozens of narrow gaps and cracks in the infrastructure of the dwelling she occupied. She had slept through the entire night. The room looked completely different now that it was no longer cloaked by the dark. It didn't appear as dank or bleak as it had when she could barely see inside it. The sparse furnishings still made it look impoverished, but they didn't look as dilapidated as she had imagined them to be the previous night.

In addition, the fifteen-year-old girl noticed that the night hadn't grown as cold as she feared it would; the temperature inside the room was cool but comfortable. Her back felt the warmth of the fireplace behind her; somehow the fire hadn't died out during the night. When she peaked over her shoulder, she noticed that a nice bed of coals layered the bottom of the fireplace. _How odd..._ she thought. _It should have burned out hours ago._

When the pain in her side lessened, Bra decided to begin the task of checking on her injury. When she did so, she immediately noticed that a linen blanket had been draped over her torso; it was too small to cover her legs. She realized that the blanket was yet another reason why the cold night air hadn't bothered her. But she was confused and intrigued as to how it had gotten there. Had she retrieved it during the night and had no recollection of having done so?

Having no immediate answer, the demi-saiyan slowly sat up. The blanket fell to pool in her lap. Carefully, she pulled the bottom of her hoodie and tank top up far enough to reveal her wound. Holding her clothing up in one hand, she used the other to peel back the makeshift bandage she had placed over it. The flesh was still angry and red, but appeared to have healed a little through the night. Without accessing her ki, however, the healing process was progressing at a snail's pace.

Bra was suddenly alerted to someone else's presence when she heard the sound of the metal slab that served as a door shifted to the side. She whirled to her right hand side, wincing as the motion pulled at the wound in her left side. But the injury was no longer a priority to her as her eyes fell upon the intruder. Subconsciously, she placed her clothes back over the site of her injury.

Standing in the doorway was one of the natives, one of the insect-like creatures that the blue-haired girl had seen scurrying about in the streets the previous day. She stared at the alien. The alien stared back at her. She was frozen in place, uncertain what to do now that she had been discovered. Fight? Flight? Or wait to see what happens? After a moment, the creature slid the door back into place and approached the fireplace, navigating in a wide circle around the girl – or at least in as wide of a circle as the small room allotted. Was the alien just as wary of her as she was of it? Or was it simply giving her enough space as to not feel threatened? She didn't know.

Bra remained tense, ready to bolt at a moment's notice if need be. She kept her eyes locked on the form of the creature as it added another plank of wood to the fire. She studied the creature. She realized that the alien's green skin wasn't the hard, outer shell she had originally assumed it to be. Bra noticed that the creature's outer tissue layer was somewhat fleshy. But it was made of a tough material, something akin to cartilage. It's thin pair of wings looked so delicate. They were so fragile that they didn't appear to be functional for flight.

The insect-like alien placed a large pot over the fire. Where the pot had come from, the teenager didn't know. The bug filled it with water from the basin. Then the creature began to retrieve things from a box on the floor next to the basin. _That box wasn't there last night,_ Bra noted. _The alien must've brought it here._ The girl couldn't identify the things that the creature was putting into the gradually warming water. But soon, the air inside the shanty began to fill with a pleasant odor as the water and its ingredients began to simmer into a broth.

While the food slowly stewed, the bug turned its attention to Bra once again. "Jo unk ishnkotch," it spoke.

Bra shook her head. "I'm sorry. I don't speak your language," she replied, despite knowing that her response was futile.

"Tchu tch gi jonk shoshtch?" the creature spoke again.

The alien gestured to Bra's injured left side with a three-fingered appendage. The girl glanced down at her side for just a moment and then looked back up at the creature. _What is it... Why is it pointing to my injury?_ she wondered. The bug took a step closer to Bra. Bra scooted back and away from the creature, wary of its intentions. The creature halted. Then it began to make exaggerated gestures.

The demi-saiyan studied the alien's movements, trying to decipher what it was apparently trying to communicate to her. The insect-like being gestured to its own left side, poking at it, and then covering it with its hands. Bra wasn't entirely sure what it was trying to pantomime to her. The creature tried another tactic. It retrieved what appeared to be a small roll of cloth. It unrolled the thick, cheap material. The bug held a strip of the cloth over its left side. After a moment, it then gestured the cloth towards Bra, once again pointing at her side. It gave her an expectant stare.

_It... wants to redress my injury,_ Bra realized. Slowly, she lifted her hoodie up over her head. Then she pulled her tank top up far enough for the insect-like creature to see the wound. The bug, seeming to understand that Bra had given it permission to assist her, quickly closed the distance between the two. The unexpectedly fast movement from the creature startled her, but she resolved herself to remain still while the alien did its work.

The blunette cringed, preparing for the pain to flare up again as the injury was molested. But the pain was minimal. The alien was very careful with the wound and worked very gingerly. The old, soiled bandages were removed before Bra even realized they were gone. The bug gently washed away the residual blood from the site. Bra noted that the creature applied a feather-light tough to her skin; she could barely feel the contact with her flesh. Then it began to apply a soothing salve. The ointment took the pain away almost immediately. It tingled just a little bit. But it was also very relaxing. Finally, the alien applied a fresh bandage to the injury.

"I know you can't understand me," Bra said as the creature took a step back, "but thank you very much for helping me. I wish I could tell you how much I appreciate it."

The alien didn't respond. Instead, it went back to the pot of stew and began to stir its contents while adding a few more ingredients. With the alien's demonstration of good will, the fifteen-year-old girl relaxed considerably. She was no longer so concerned about the alien that she felt she had to diligently watch its every movement. So, while the bug continued to prepare its meal, Bra gathered the few of her belongings that had been scattered about the shanty during the previous evening.

The alien occasionally glanced at Bra as she collected her things. With the language barrier between them, she felt a little uncomfortable. The near-silence in the room, interrupted only by Bra's movement within the small space and the bug's attention to the stew, was awkward. Bra felt like an intruder in what appeared to be the creature's home. She wanted to put the discomfort behind her as quickly as possible. She collected her smart-watch from the fireplace and strapped it to her wrist. Bra found her blood-stained t-shirt and the remnants of her gym shorts and stuffed them into her backpack. Her hoodie, she slipped back into since the temperature was still a bit chilly despite the small fire warming the room. With all of her belongings gathered, she turned towards the door.

"Well, thank you again," she said to the alien. "Sorry I imposed, but I'll be leaving now. I won't inconvenience you any longer."

The creature had turned to face Bra as she gave her departure. Although it was impossible for it to have understood the girl's actual words, it seemed to realize her intentions. It began to gesticulate wildly again. This time it placed its hands on its stomach, then pointed at the brewing pot of stew, and finally it held up a chipped ceramic dish. Again, it looked at Bra expectantly.

The halfling sighed. _It wants me to stay and eat, apparently,_ she deduced. She wasn't certain about eating any food that was unfamiliar to her, but the aroma that had filled the shanty smelled quite delicious. Her stomach rumbled just a little bit, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since her lunch period at school the previous day. And that meal – in blending in with the human population – had been quite meager. She realized that she was feeling a little bit faint. _I probably should eat something,_ she relented. So she decided to stay a while longer. After all, she might unintentionally offend her host if she refused.

Bra sat back down on the floor while the bug served a large helping of stew into a bowl. The alien handed the dish over to her. She graciously accepted the meal. Bra looked around expectantly for a spoon, but then realized that there were none around. Typically, she would have balked at having to slurp from the bowl, much like her father and brother were wont to do, but she had been through too much already to care much about proper table manners.

The blue-haired girl lifted the bowl to her lips. But then she hesitated. Something wasn't right. She looked up at the insect-like being to see that it was watching her intently. _Why isn't it eating too?_ she pondered. The creature seemed quite eager as it waited for Bra to try the food. Its fingers twitched anxiously. Bra lowered the dish away from her mouth and watched the bug for its reaction. It urgently gestured, as if it were holding and lifting a bowl of its own, attempting to coerce her to eat. The creature's mannerisms seemed a little too persistent.

Bra lifted the bowl once again. Again she watched the alien, testing its reaction, studying its body language. The creature leaned forward with anticipation as the dish grew closer to her lips. Just as the steam from the stew drifted beneath Bra's nose, she suddenly picked up a few unusual odors. From the creature, she scented something salty, pungent, and tangy. The scent triggered feelings of distaste and violation to stir within her. She felt repulsed. And she knew what these feelings meant. Despite the fact that Bra was dealing with a foreign creature, she knew the scent of deception when she smelled it.

The second odor came from the stew itself. Beneath the heavy vegetable aroma, the teenager detected something bitter. If her nose had been weaker, the broth would have masked the odor of the mysterious, and likely dangerous, ingredient. She drew in a deeper breath, curious to identify the probable toxin that the alien had slipped into the concoction. She regretted doing so immediately. The poison was so potent that merely breathing it in had caused her head to spin and a lethargy to spread through her limbs. She realized, in that moment, that the sensation was very similar to the salve that the creature had put on her wound. _That bug-alien has been trying to drug me from the very start!_

Calmly, despite the startling discovery, Bra lowered the bowl away from her face one final time. Deliberately, she turned the bowl over and dumped its contents onto the floor. _That's right, you sneaky bastard. I'm on to you._ The creature reacted immediately and hastily. It grabbed the bowl from Bra's hands, filled it with another large helping of stew, and thrust it back into her hands. This time, Bra dropped the bowl on the floor and got up to leave. She swayed on her feet a little bit – an effect of the small dose of toxin she had absorbed into her system – but quickly regained her balance.

The demi-saiyan grabbed her bag and turned towards the door slowly so that she didn't exacerbate the wave of dizziness that was passing over her. The bug quickly moved to block her exit. Bra stopped short of running into the alien. The creature's audacity quickly ignited her anger. She growled at it, but managed to keep her ki subdued so that she didn't draw attention from the city's scouter-equipped police force.

Wisely, the alien stepped out of Bra's way. She slung her bag onto her back and pushed the metal door panel to the side. The air outside was noticeably chillier than it was inside the shanty. The street was brightly lit by the sun, still low in the sky. Already there were a few of the insectoid aliens out and about. They didn't concern her, however. It was the two armor-wearing officers at the end of the block to her right that _did _worry her. She pulled her hood up over her head and turned in the opposite direction. Trying not to draw attention to herself, she walked down the street calmly. The drug she had unknowingly absorbed continued to have an effect on her; she could feel that she was unable to walk without a slight sway to her steps. But she pushed onward.

When the blunette reached the nearest intersection, she found that another pair of patrolmen were standing just around the corner. She ducked back, out of their view. Risking a peek at them, she noticed that they were interrogating a small group of the insect creatures. One of the officers held a spherical disk between his hands. From the smooth, white, featureless object, a three-dimensional image was projected in the space above it. Bra studied the projection. She had to squint to see it clearly, noting that the chemical in her system was obscuring her ability to see objects at a distance. When her sight cleared long enough for her to decipher the image, she realized that it was a holographic photo of her!

Bra ducked back around the corner again. _How did they get a photo of me?_ she fretted. And then she realized, _Duh. Their scouters. Of course they would have recording devices in them. The soldiers from last night had had plenty of time to capture my image._ She peered at the patrolmen again. _Why are they being so persistent? And how do I get past them?_

Another wave of dizziness hit the fifteen-year-old. She shook her head to rid herself of the vertigo, using the building against her back for support. When she felt stable again, she stepped away from the shack and crossed the narrow street to the corner opposite the soldiers. Once there, she continued along the street perpendicular to the one she had emerged from. She kept the soldiers to her back. Her goal was the next intersection, where she would turn the corner again, exiting the line of sight of the patrolmen and, hopefully, she wouldn't run into any more of them.

Bra was almost to the next block when a loud shout caught her attention.

"JO KINK! GKUNG NKIK KINK!

The half-saiyan reacted to the noise and turned to face the source of the disturbance. The one who had called out was one of the soldiers. And he was looking directly at her.

"Dammit," Bra muttered.

The blue-haired girl turned away from the warriors as if she hadn't heard them. They continued to shout at her. She crossed the street again and took a right hand turn onto the next road. As soon as she was out of their line of sight, she bolted. The soldiers pursued her. She zig-zagged down the next several sets of streets, trying to elude them. Bra headed deeper into the city, towards taller and better constructed buildings where she could blend in with the non-insect locals. She knew she had to get out of the bug-alien slums; she stood out too much against their short stature and distinct features.

After Bra had made too many twists and turns for her pursuers to keep her in their sights, she ducked into an alley. This one was much nicer than the one she had traveled through the night before; it wasn't nearly as filled with trash nor was the lingering smell quite as rotten. Above her, she noticed lengths of rope spanned the gap between the windows of the two buildings on either side of her. From these lines, articles of clothing had been hung to dry. An idea sprung to her head. _I need to change my appearance. They're looking for a blue-eyed girl in a gray hoodie._

The teen walked towards the lowest line. Several drab tunics hung just barely within reach. As she gazed at the apparel, a guilty feeling overcame her. _I never had to steal anything before._ The idea of taking something that was not hers made her skin crawl. The citizens here were so very poor, even those who weren't living in the slums had meager possessions. She didn't feel right taking something from someone who had so little. Bra didn't want to do it, but knew that she didn't have much of a choice. She reached up to grab a large frock, lifting herself up onto the tips of her toes to do so. She felt a small rush of blood through her head as her body fought the toxin in her system. She stumbled slightly, but regained her footing. The bottom of the frock just barely touched her fingertips. But she was able to get enough of a hold on it to pull it free from its line.

Bra slipped her backpack off of her shoulders and then pulled out of her hoodie, stuffing the latter into the former. As she packed away the sweatshirt, she retrieved a pair of sunglasses from her bag. On went the pack again, then the unattractive frock she had acquired, and finally, the sunglasses to hide her eyes. She emerged from the alley and discovered that her pursuers had reappeared. But they took no notice of her as she slipped inconspicuously into the crowd of morning commuters.

The halfling moved along with other travelers with surprising ease. Several times, she walked right past soldiers, some who were brandishing holographs of her image from the night before, and they didn't bother a second glance at her. Sure, she got a few odd looks from the locals because of her unusual appearance; the eyewear, the frumpy frock, and the bizarre lump on her back from her concealed backpack made her appear strange. But most of the residents were just as odd-looking – to her anyway – and therefore, she felt that she blended in quite well.

Several blocks later, Bra took note that the poison in her body was still troubling her. Had she been able to access her ki, she could have burned the toxin out of her system. Because she couldn't do that without revealing herself, she knew that she needed to get some food in her. The nutrients would boost her metabolism and help her body process the chemicals running rampant through her body.

The blue-haired girl used her nose to locate the nearest eatery. Soon, she detected an aroma that was similar to grilled meats. Her stomach rumbled eagerly. Bra followed the scent to a building that looked like a small diner. She hesitated outside the door. _Wait a minute. How am I supposed to order something to eat if I can't speak the local language?_ she realized. _And if, on the small chance, I'm successful, how will I pay for it?_

As Bra contemplated this predicament, she noticed out of the corner of her left eye that a large group of soldiers had gathered together and they were heading in her direction. One or two soldiers, she had proven to be able to dupe. But a dozen? She didn't want to take the risk. So she gathered her courage and stepped into the seedy little restaurant.

When she got inside, the teenager made a quick scan of the establishment. Overall, it resembled a dimly lit bar-and-grill. A bar ran across almost the entire length of the left wall; a scantily-clad woman with orange skin was working behind it. Several alien patrons were seated there, downing large mugs of local alcoholic beverages. _Booze? At this hour? Apparently there aren't any liquor laws on this planet,_ Bra observed.

There were about a dozen tables along the right hand and far back walls. Only three of these booths were occupied. The two near the center had two patrons each. These customers were sating their appetites on large platters of charred meat. The table furthest away from Bra had a single man seated at it. Bra's attention lingered on him. He appeared to be casually sipping from a mug. His features were obscured by the poor lighting at the far end of the eatery, but she could see enough of him to observe the armor he adorned. _Great. Another soldier,_ she cursed.

The barmaid glanced at Bra briefly as she lingered in the doorway, but then turned her attention back towards her customers. A few of the other patrons cast their eyes towards her. Only then did she realize that her awkward hesitation at the door was drawing unnecessary attention towards herself. She slipped into the nearest booth, hoping to alleviate their curiosity.

The demi-saiyan took off her sunglasses and set them down on the tabletop as she waited for one of the diner's staff to approach her. The booth she sat in was horribly uncomfortable, and this discomfort was exacerbated by the bag still on her back. As she considered removing the cumbersome accessory, a pair of the patrons from the bar walked towards her. Initially, she suspected that they were heading for the exit. But when they stopped at her table, she grew alarmed.

"Shik shuk tchu shi jotch jink?" asked the tall, red-haired, humanoid man with four eyes.

"U ngiki kik kich. Onk jo kushki?" spoke the lizard-like man who had a thick line of white feathers running down its spine.

"Shotch jo kig gutch kutchngoshi?" the first said in what sounded to be a taunting tone.

"Jig. Ushkin shitch shokn jink gnkush uk," the red-haired man said with a grin.

Bra glowered at them. But she didn't respond. How could she when she couldn't understand them and vice versa?

The lizard-man reached out a clawed hand towards the girl to take a lock of her hair between his scaly fingers. "U ngink kig tchig shotch shing u shig gnkig."

Suddenly, the soldier from the far end of the bar was right there. He had moved so quickly that the two men harassing Bra hadn't seen him move until he was standing in front of them. But she had seen his every move. He had grabbed the lizard-man's wrist and was twisting it painfully away from Bra. The lizard-man cried out in pain as the bones in his forearm broke with an audible snap. The red-haired man gaped speechlessly while his associate was assaulted.

The soldier growled threateningly to them in their guttural language. "Jo shik kitch jink utch ushng gishunk tch gnkig tchunk utch jonk gushnk."

The dark-haired soldier released the lizard-man's injured appendage. As soon as he was freed, he hastily headed towards the establishment's exit, cradling his arm as he did so. His comrade quickly followed. The remaining patrons, who had turned to watch the disturbance, continued to warily stare at them. It took one glare from the warrior to convince them to return to their own business. Once all their eyes were averted, the tall soldier took a seat across the table from Bra.

"Tchig ig u tchushinkog shugunkotch shunk u ngink-ngiktch. Shotch gnkichk jo jink?" he asked in a calm tone.

Bra was wary of him. And annoyed. She scowled at him. _How presumptuous of him to think that saving me means he's automatically invited to sit with me!_ Sure, he had just gotten rid of those creepy aliens for her. And he was the most human-looking person that she had laid eyes on since arriving on this world. The only odd things about him were his unusual height and extremely long hair. _How could he sit down without sitting on it?_ Despite his human-like appearance, she still didn't trust him. Less than an hour ago, she had put her trust into someone that had displayed care and concern for her, only to be betrayed. She wasn't going to place her safety into the hands of another stranger so soon.

Discretely, the blunette drew in a deep breath of air, testing the scents that were carried upon it. She smelled the potent aroma of alcohol and food, the fading odors of the two men who had left, and a spicy scent that drifted towards her from the table's other occupant. What she didn't smell, was the repugnant stink of deception. She was slightly surprised; he harbored no ill purpose or selfish intentions. This eased her nerves slightly, but the piercing gaze of his dark eyes continued to fuel her apprehension.

In response to the warrior's question, Bra simply gave him a blank look. _How do I tell him that I don't understand?_ She sighed and shook her head. There was no point in trying. She decided that her best course of action was to leave this eatery and try to find another one. She grabbed her sunglasses and scooted towards the edge of the booth. But she was stopped by the next set of words out of the man's mouth.

"You're not one of the locals, are you?" he spoke in a language she _could_ understand.

Bra blinked at him incredulously. _Is that... galactic standard?_

"Good," he added, "because I hate speaking their awful tongue. It's rough on the vocal chords."

Relief washed through her. It wasn't until this moment, when she heard words that she could understand, that she realized how isolated she truly felt. _Finally! Someone I can actually talk to!_ she mentally celebrated as a tiny grin cracked the corner of her lips.


	5. Lesson Five

_Lessons From My Father_

_Lesson Five  
__Galactic Standard_

_ One of the things I has always prided myself on was my unnatural ability to learn the many languages and dialects of the world with incredible ease. I credit this gift to Momma, from whom my eidetic memory was inherited. In addition to learning so many of the widely spoken languages of Earth, I had also learned several alien languages. Among those were Daddy's native tongue of the saiyans and the language of the saiyans' first enemy, the tsufuru, from which many words were adopted into saiyashi._

_ But there was one alien language in particular that I had a lot of difficulty with. Galactic standard. When I was twelve years old, Daddy decided it was time that I learn this abysmal language. Having had no prior difficulty becoming fluent in any language thus far, galactic standard had proven to be quite infuriating to me. The more I struggled with it, the more I wanted to give up. But Daddy was determined to teach me._

_ During one particular lesson, he had handwritten a long paragraph in galactic standard and instructed me to first read it out loud to him and then to translate its meaning into human common. There were several problems that I was having with the request. First, galactic standard – or GS – was made up of dozens of characters. Second, most of those characters had pronunciations that didn't exist in any human language or dialect. _

_ In addition, the grammar was vastly different. There were no definitive articles in GS; words such as 'the,' 'a,' or 'an' were just implied. There was no pluralization of words either; unless a specific number accompanied a noun, there was no obvious indication whether there was one of something or hundreds of it. Words were gender specific in GS. But unlike some of the languages of Earth where there were no more than three gender variations of a word – male, female, or neutral – GS had five different, and very specific, gender notations – the three that also exist in Earth languages and the other two which are so difficult to comprehend that I could write an entire book on the topic. _

_ And finally, the word order made absolutely no sense. Nouns and subjects were clumped together. Adverbs and adjectives appeared before their verb and noun counterparts. Verbs placed before nouns. It was so counterintuitive compared to all the languages I had learned thus far. _

_ My eyes slowly crawled across each word on the page, skipping over most as I didn't understand them. The message was lost to me, leaving me feeling frustrated and befuddled._

_ "This is so pointless," I grumbled._

_ Daddy smirked. "That isn't the correct pronunciation nor is it the correct translation. Try again."_

_ I dropped the sheet of paper onto the table in front of me and lifted my eyes to meet those of my father. "How am I supposed to read this? You only just started teaching me galactic standard a week ago."_

_ "I was less than half your age when I learned it."_

_ "You had the benefit of a scouter to download it into the language cortex of your brain."_

_ "Not when I was a child; that type of scouter technology had not yet been developed. I was forced to learn galactic standard the hard way, and as quickly as possible since my survival depended on it."_

_ I frowned. "But my survival _doesn't_ depend on it. Why do I have to know how to speak it? It's not like an alien is gonna drop down onto the planet unexpectedly."_

_ Daddy lifted an eyebrow questioningly and I realized how silly my argument sounded. It seemed as if every couple of years, Earth was visited by extraterrestrials. Despite this frequency, however, the last to have actually landed on Earth was about a year before I was born._

_ "Okay, so maybe it's probable that some aliens will eventually find Earth," I conceded. "But it doesn't necessarily mean that they'll be speaking in galactic standard..."_

_ "Almost every space faring race on this side of the galaxy has been exposed to galactic standard," Daddy lectured. "It stands to reason that any foreign species that winds up on this mudball will have acquired at least some understanding of the language. Because there are only a handful of us on this backwater planet that are even aware of life on other worlds and even fewer who can speak galactic standard, it is imperative that you learn it as well."_

_ I sighed and retrieved the discarded sheet of paper from the table top, resuming my studies of the impossible language. _

_ Over the course of the next several months, I slowly came to grasp the bizarre sentence structure, the odd pronunciations, and the vast vocabulary. Daddy had been unyielding with his lessons, but his patience had paid off. I was very proud of myself when, after two years of solid study, I could converse fluently in galactic standard. Despite this, I still very much doubted that I would need to utilize it any time soon. _

_ How very wrong I was._

_~ from The Memoirs of Bra Briefs_

* * *

Date: Unknown  
Location: Unknown

Conquering planets was becoming tiresome work. And when forced to do it alone, Raditz was quickly realizing, the job was all the more exhausting. He used to thrive with the hum of battle in his veins, to relish in the challenge of conquering a powerful foe, to crave the taste of blood and sweat in the air. But that exhilaration had been waning over the past few galactic years. The thrill simply wasn't there anymore. Purges were no longer pushing his limits. His battles against his foes were always the same; nothing new to pique his interest. He felt... stagnant. Trapped by his limitations. Simply put, he was bored. And boredom was tiresome.

This was why the long-haired saiyan had decided to make an unscheduled pit stop on his way back from his latest purge. Sure, Prince Vegeta would be displeased with the delay, but when Raditz felt the need to get out of his cramped pod and stretch his legs, he couldn't resist that urge. He was in desperate need of some downtime, even if it was only for a day. He needed some time to unwind, to get some rest without the fear of an ambush or a tyrannical overlord to disturb him in the middle of his sleep. He wanted just a few hours to himself without having to answer to someone else.

Raditz had arrived on this little outpost only the night before. Upon landing, he had immediately checked into the nearest hotel, too tired even to peruse one of the local brothels. Of course, there were plenty of prostitutes mingling in the streets of the city and it would have been easy enough to solicit one or two on his way to a hotel. But even that felt like it would take more energy than it was worth. Besides, who wanted a whore from the street when one could have a nice, clean girl from a reputable establishment? Perhaps before he left the planet he would seek out one of the many brothels this outpost had to offer.

After a few hours of solid sleep on the first comfortable bed he had laid on in almost an entire galactic year, Raditz did the second thing that came to mind. He went out to sedate his ravaging hunger. A few blocks down from the hotel he had stayed in the night before – which was a little more run down than he had realized the night before – was a diner of sorts. The aroma wafting from the little bar-and-grill beckoned to him. In the end, it didn't matter to him from where he got his food, so long as he got it soon.

The tall saiyan man made quick work of the large meal that he had ordered. He plowed through several servings, ignoring the stares of all the other patrons in the diner. When he finally felt satisfied, he sat back in his seat to give himself some time to digest, sipping on a mug of alcohol. He couldn't remember the name the orange-skinned bar wench gave to the drink and it wasn't a very strong beverage, but it served to wash his meal down all the same.

It was while Raditz was enjoying his post-feeding-lethargy that an odd looking patron entered the diner. Her strange coloring and even stranger choice of attire was what caught his eye. She had bright blue hair and porcelain skin. A bizarre duel-lens, black tinted, scouter-like device covered both of her eyes. And she wore a large and tattered frock which disguised the rest of her features. The ensemble looked quite ridiculous. She hovered by the doorway for a few moments as she scanned the occupants of the establishment. At one point, her attention seemed to linger on him for several seconds, but with her eyes shielded, he couldn't be too certain. Shortly after her attention seemed to move away from him, she suddenly slid into the booth nearest her, as if she had caught herself in a moment of embarrassment.

The long-haired saiyan watched her from his shadowy booth as she removed the eye-wear from her face. Bright, blue eyes were revealed. She was definitely the oddest colored girl he had encountered so far. If not for her bizarre hues and small frame, he could have mistaken her for a saiyan. There were not many creatures in the galaxy that resembled his nigh extinct race. He continued to watch her as she struggled to gain comfort in the wooden booth she sat at.

Raditz considered approaching her. He wasn't sure why the desire suddenly fancied him. There were only two reasons why he would ever interact with a female; either to fuck her or kill her. But he found that his interest in her was not for either of these reasons. Sure, she had a pretty face, but she didn't exude sex appeal. And she had done nothing so far to make him want to squeeze the life out of her. So what was so unique about this one insignificant girl that was so alluring? Perhaps it was his restless boredom, calling out to him to seek out something that would spark his interest. He needed a break in the bland monotony that his life had recently become.

Before the saiyan could rise from his seat, a pair of patrons stepped away from the bar and approached the girl instead. They smelt menacing; they didn't bother concealing their lust for her. Raditz didn't like the idea of these men going anywhere near her. _What is this protective instinct I am feeling?_ he wondered. _The girl is nothing to me. I should not concern myself with her._ Yet, he found himself leaning forward a little, listening to the men as they spoke, thankful that he had imprinted the planet's native language prior to his arrival on this world.

"Well what do we have here?" taunted the first male, a tall, red-haired man with four eyes.

"A pretty little thing," the lizard-like man observed. "Are you lonely?" he asked the girl.

"Would you like some company?" the first teased.

The girl glowered at the men, but said nothing. Raditz watched but hesitated to act. Like many of Frieza's outposts, this was the way the locals behaved; take what you want, defend what was yours – if you could. If the girl couldn't handle herself, then it was her mistake for coming here. Still, the situation didn't sit well with Raditz, and he wasn't completely sure why.

The saiyan had seen plenty of incidents of violence and rape and death in his many years under Frieza's employ. He had been assigned his first purging mission when he was just a cub of three; the blood of millions of helpless people had soiled his hands before he had lost his milk teeth. By the time he had returned to his home world at the age of five, the planet was destroyed and his parents were dead. Soon after, he was taken under the wing of a saiyan named Nappa, a top general in the former saiyan army and, at the time, guardian to Prince Vegeta.

Under Nappa's care, Raditz had been exposed to more and more depravity as the symptoms of post traumatic stress chipped away at the older saiyan's psyche. Nappa had difficulty coping with the loss of his mate and two cubs during the destruction of Planet Vegeta. Having Raditz and Prince Vegeta under his care when they were young had helped alleviate his earliest symptoms. But as the cubs grew older and depended upon him less and less, Nappa struggled to maintain an equilibrium. He took his pain out on his unfortunate victims, cruelly slaughtering them in ways that became more and more brutal over the years. And when he was feeling particularly sadistic, he would force himself upon his female victims before killing them. If it weren't for Prince Vegeta's assertion over the giant brute, Nappa would have deteriorated into a ruthless, mindless killing machine by now.

It wasn't just Nappa who raped his prey, however. Many soldiers in Frieza's army willingly and gleefully tormented their victims in their final moments. But Raditz and Prince Vegeta were two who did not. Despite his refusal to partake in the practice, the ruthlessness of rape had still become like an everyday occurrence to Raditz. He had long ago grown numb to it. And as he watched the blue-haired girl at the other end of the bar, it appeared as if the act of rape was certainly going to play out yet again in front of him. As he predicted this outcome, he felt, for the first time ever, bothered by the thought.

Discreetly, the long-haired saiyan pressed the button on his scouter and read the power levels of both men and the girl. The men had energy levels that were pathetic; the red-haired man was a mere 158 and the lizard was even weaker at 139. But the girl... Hers was abysmally small. Her ki read at a mere twelve. She didn't stand a chance. He clicked the button on his scouter again and disengaged the ki-reader with a sad shake of his head.

The lizard man reached out and took a lock of the girl's hair between two of his scaly fingers. "A girl like this would fetch a nice price," he commented to his partner-in-crime.

The red-haired man grinned maliciously in agreement. "Yes, after we've fucked her brains out."

Raditz had seen and heard enough. He launched out of his seat and phased across the room in half a heartbeat. He snatched the lizard man's wrist and bend it backward until he felt and heard the satisfactory snapping of his bones. The lizard screeched in pain, helpless to escape the hold on his arm. The red-haired man stood frozen in place with an expression of shock, mouth agape and speechless.

"You will leave here at once before I break more of your bones," Raditz growled to the men in the local guttural language.

The long-haired saiyan none-to-gently released his grip on the lizard's arm. The alien quickly scurried away to the exit of the establishment, his cohort fast on his heels. Raditz kept his menacing gaze on them until the door shut behind them. Once they were gone, he cast his gaze across the establishment, leering at the remaining patrons. They quickly averted their eyes. With their attentions returned to their meals, Raditz softened the expression on his face and plopped into the seat across from the girl.

"This is a dangerous neighborhood for a girl-child. What brings you here?" he asked her calmly.

She didn't immediately answer him. She scrutinized him instead. Raditz didn't mind. _Let her decide what she want of me,_ he thought. _She has every right to be wary of me._ Her face slowly morphed into an annoyed and hauntingly familiar scowl, one he couldn't quite place. It stirred an inexplicable feeling of anxiety to pool deep in Raditz's stomach. _There is something eerie about her_, he noted. _It is like I recognize her, yet I cannot place where I might know her from._ He dismissed that thought. _It is unlikely that I know her. I would certainly have remembered this girl if I had encountered her before..._

Eventually, the girl's scowl melted into a blank look. She still had yet to answer him. A small, quiet sigh escaped her lips, like the softest whisper on a gentle wind. Raditz couldn't make sense of her quickly shifting expressions and body language. But when she snatched her eye-device from the table and slid to the edge of the booth as if to leave, something suddenly became clear.

"You're not one of the locals, are you?" the long-haired man asked in galactic standard.

This time, he got a strong reaction from the girl. She immediately halted her departure and locked eyes with him. She blinked at him in stunned surprise. Raditz felt a thrill of excitement and satisfaction; clearly she understood him this time.

"Good," Raditz continued, "because I hate speaking their awful tongue. It's rough on the vocal chords."

A tiny grin pulled at the corner of the girl's mouth. "You know galactic standard," she breathed in disbelief.

Raditz could see the elation and relief in her eyes. "I take it you've had an insufficient exchange of conversation as of late."

"You could say that," she answered. "You're the first person I've been able to talk to since I got here."

The long-haired man pondered on that revelation. _Why would a girl come to a world without the ability to communicate with the locals?_

"As I was trying to say to you before," Raditz clarified, "this is a dangerous area for a girl such as yourself. Why would you risk coming here without an escort?"

The brightness in the girl's eyes dimmed as troubling thoughts crossed her mind. "It's kind of a long story..."

Raditz waited for her to elaborate. He drew in a deep breath, pulling in the many scents emanating from her. Strongest of the scents were the more recent ones; blood and a concoction of medicinal herbs. Beneath that, he detected the earthy smell of soil and the acrid stench of smoke. Placing all of these together, the logical conclusion was that she had recently been in a battle. _That would explain her pathetically low power level_, he guessed. _She must have just barely escaped alive._

"Wait a minute... What exactly do you mean by 'a girl such as [my]self?'" the girl accused, snapping her guest out of his reverie.

Raditz was slightly affronted. "I meant no offense," he explained in an annoyed tone. "Just that you appear younger than most females in this district. Plus, you have a comely face. Your youth and your looks certainly attract a lot of attention."

The blue-haired girl blushed and averted her gaze. Her accusatory glare deflated instantly after hearing the round-about compliment. Raditz thought that her modesty added to her allure and mystery.

The saiyan continued, "And if I'm not mistaken, you're injured... and vulnerable. I just didn't think it wise for someone in your condition to be without an escort in such a seedy place."

The girl nodded slightly, still avoiding eye contact. Almost meekly, she said, "Thank you for your concern, but I could have handled those brutes."

Raditz grinned condescendingly. "If you say so, princess."

The girl's eyes snapped to his, something akin to alarm reflected in her blue orbs. But she buried the show of emotion. The conversation suddenly came to a pause. A long and awkward silence stretched between them. The girl was clearly uncomfortable in the company of the strange man. She had averted her attention to other points throughout the diner. She fidgeted with her eye-device.

Raditz wasn't ready for their conversation to end, searching for a way to continue their exchange. He realized something, "Forgive me, I've neglected to introduce myself. My name is Raditz."

The girl met his eyes and that look of surprise crossed her features again. "Raditz? As in... Raditz of the saiyans?"

The long-haired man was taken aback, surprised as well that she recognized his name. _How does she know me?_ he wondered. _I do not think I have met her before... I am certain I have not..._

"You know me?" he prompted her.

"Uh... yea. Sort of," she answered nervously. "I've _heard_ of you, actually. Saiyans _do_ kind of have a notorious reputation, you know. And there _are_ only a few saiyans left in the galaxy, right? I thought it went without saying that your name was well known throughout the galaxy."

Raditz accepted the answer, although a little skeptically. _I would have an easier time believing her if she had said Prince Vegeta's or even Nappa's reputations preceded them. But mine? I am just their lackey. Whatever notoriety I might elicit is immediately attributed to them. When I die, my name will fade into obscurity. Not even Lord Frieza bothers to remember my name._

"But here's the thing," she added. "I thought you were dead?"

He raised a curious eyebrow. "Dead?"

"Yea. Killed by a namekian," she elaborated.

The saiyan blinked at her preposterously. After a moment, he burst out in a loud guffaw. "A namekian? Those tree-planting, peace-lovers?" He laughed again. "_That_ is perhaps the funniest story I've heard in over a galactic year! Dead indeed!"

"Yea, funny, huh?" the girl responded with a halfhearted giggle. A troubled look overcame her. "Tell me something. What is today's date?"

Raditz's laughter died as he soaked in her solemn disposition. _An odd question_, he thought.

"Today is the thirty-seventh day of the second galactic quarter," he answered.

Her expression was blank, as if that information meant little to her. "And the year?"

The saiyan quirked his eyebrow again. "Galactic year 759."

The girl retreated into her thoughts. She muttered something too quiet for Raditz to make out. After a moment, her eyes widened. In a language that Raditz didn't understand, but presumed to be the girl's native tongue, she whispered, "Oh... my... Dende..."

"Is something wrong?" the saiyan inquired, reacting to the tone of disbelief in her voice.

The blue-haired female shook her head. "No. Yes. I don't know. Um... look. Thank you for helping me and all. But I should probably get going..."

She moved to get up. Raditz stopped her by placing a hand on her wrist. He wasn't ready for them to part ways just yet.

"Wait. You have yet to tell me your name..." the saiyan implored.

"B- uhh... lla," she stuttered. "Bulla. My friends call me Bulla."

The long-haired man eyed her. A hinting scent of deception wafted from her direction. _She is lying_, he knew. It didn't sit well with him. For some reason he couldn't explain, he decided not to press the issue. But he wasn't going to let her off the hook completely.

"You aren't being honest with me, but I assume you have your reasons. I will allow you your secrets. So, Bulla it is then, eh?"

Bra bowed her head graciously. "Thank you for respecting my privacy."

The blunette breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that Raditz would accept her alias with no questions asked, despite knowing that she wasn't being truthful. She had nearly blurted her name to him. What a mistake that would have been! Somehow, she had ended up in the past. Stuck here, as she was, she couldn't possibly reveal her true identity to him without risking the events that were to take place in the future. And that was why she was in a hurry to leave. She couldn't remain in the company of one of her father's associates any longer than necessary. The longer she stayed in his presence, the greater the chance was that he would accidentally discover something about the future.

Raditz nodded in response to Bra's gratitude. "You're welcome. And whatever it is that's troubling you, surely you don't have to leave so hastily. You haven't eaten yet, and I assume that's why you came in here to begin with. Can I buy you something?"

The halfling shook her head. "No, thank you. I couldn't impose..."

"Nonsense!" the saiyan man brushed aside her refusal. He called over to the bar maid using the local language. "Wench! Bring another serving of my earlier order! Add it to my bill!"

Defeated, Bra settled back into the booth. She conceded that she was indeed still hungry. But her thoughts were busy on the information she had just acquired. Up until now, she was certain that the aliens who had attacked her home had merely sent her to another world. But now, she realized, they had done more than just that. Somehow she had been transported into the past as well. And if her calculations were correct, based on the galactic date Raditz had given her, the date on Earth was roughly 5 May, 759.

The thought was overwhelming. _I'm over thirty years in the past... How did I end up _thirty years_ in the past?! I mean... Gohan's probably just a little kid right now. Momma and Daddy aren't married yet... they haven't even met yet! And how am I supposed to get home now? Before, it was just a matter of finding a ship and hitching a ride back to Earth. But now what do I do? _

_ I suppose I could use the dragonballs after I return to Earth and wish myself back to the present... But the window of opportunity is small. I have to get to Earth at least a year before Raditz goes there. After he and Uncle Goku die, Momma starts the hunt for the dragonballs to wish Uncle Goku back... If I use the balls within a year of Raditz's arrival, they won't be active when Momma goes to search for them. She'll know that they've been used. While she may not find out it was me, it will still screw up the timeline of events. So... I have about five Earth months to get back. Hopefully, I'm not too far away from Earth to get there in time._

A large platter of food entered Bra's field of view as the bar maid set it down on the table. The sudden appearance of the plate broke the blunette's thoughts, bringing her back to the present. The bar maid set a few mugs of alcohol down on the table as well and then walked away. Bra scrutinized the food in front of her. It looked disgusting. Three dozen small, rodent-like creatures – skinned, gutted, and roasted – filled her plate. Their charred little heads hadn't even been removed from their bodies before or after they were cooked. Their empty eye sockets and blackened snouts leered gruesomely at her.

Raditz watched in amusement as Bra poked at the meat with the three-pronged utensil that had been provided. Apparently, she was accustomed to foods that were a bit more sophisticated than this. He didn't exactly blame her for her hesitation. The dish before her was made from the most abundant food source available – city pests. Even compared to his own normal military diet, this was a poor man's meal. But here on this outpost, it was considered a delicacy. The girl had no idea how many credits the dish had cost, not that he couldn't afford it.

Bra leaned in closer and took a deep sniff of the meal. The aroma of a thick, sweet glaze filled her delicate nose. As awful as the dish looked, it smelled amazing. Her mouth began to water. But the memory of her experience that morning with the native and its stew had left her wary. She breathed in the scent of the dish again, searching for an unnatural or unusual odor.

Raditz took notice. "Is something the matter?"

The blunette sat upright again. "The last time I was offered food, I was nearly drugged. I'm just being careful."

The long-haired man grinned. "If you like, I can sample it for you."

"No, it's fine. I can't smell anything wrong with it."

Bra poked one of the rodents with her utensil again, formulating a way to eat the unusual creature. _A knife would be nice_, she thought. Eventually, she decided to hold it in place with the thumb and forefinger of her left hand while she tore away a morsel of meat with the utensil in her right hand. Cautiously, she brought the tidbit of food to her mouth. The taste of the glaze exploded in her mouth, a rich and sweet flavor teased her tongue. She had expected that the meat would taste awful, but she discovered that the flavor somewhat resembled pork. In that moment, she forgot all about the fact that she was consuming creatures that resembled rats and continued eating with enthusiasm.

Raditz was amused when Bra suddenly abandoned her hesitation. He was glad that she was enjoying her meal. He was fascinated by her mannerisms; he found that her table etiquette was unusual. When he had eaten his meal, he had simply popped each animal in his mouth, bones and all. She was far daintier, using her hands as little as possible and cutting tiny pieces of meat away from the bones as neatly as she could. He was mesmerized by the silver-colored utensil dancing from her plate to her pink lips.

Midway through the meal, the girl sampled a sip of her beverage. She had never tasted alcohol before and while the experience was enticing, she was also nervous. She took the tiniest sip, but it had a very strongly bitter taste. Her face puckered in reaction. Raditz released a loud bark of laughter. Bra angrily pushed her mug towards him, having no interest in finishing it. Fortunately, he asked the bar maid for a pitcher of water, which Bra was grateful for.

Soon enough, the teenager had finished eating. A pile of tiny bones was all that remained of her meal. Although she wasn't quite sated, her belly felt better already. She would have asked for a second helping, but she was concerned that doing so would draw suspicion from Raditz. As a full-blooded saiyan, he would instantly pick up on someone whose eating habits were excessive compared to normal appetites. As it was, he appeared to be impressed that she had finished the platter. She had to do some damage control lest he begin to question her racial identity.

"Thank you very much," Bra said. With some embellishment, she added, "That was surprisingly good. I can't believe I ate all of it; I feel like such a glut. But I feel much better now. I hadn't eaten anything since yesterday."

Raditz grinned. "It was my pleasure."

"I hope it didn't cost too much."

"Don't worry about it."

Another awkward silence ensued. Bra decided that it was probably time they should part ways. She felt a little guilty, however. She hated feeling like she was dining on his zeni – or whatever currency he used – and then dashing. But what could she do? She couldn't repay him for his generosity. Nor could she remain in his company much longer. It was best to end this as soon as possible. She rose from the booth.

"Again, thank you so much for everything," the blue-haired girl said with a small bow. "But I really should be going."

Raditz rose from his seat as well, towering over the halfling's small frame. "Where are you off to?"

Bra hesitated. _Great. He had to complicate things. Why can't he just accept a farewell?_ "Well... I was hoping I could catch a ride off this planet," she answered a little vaguely.

The saiyan lifted an eyebrow skeptically. "Do you have the means to acquisition transportation off of this world?"

"Uhh... I don't know yet."

"You do realize that most individuals on this world and in this galaxy won't lend you their assistance without a price?"

Bra met his challenge. "_You_ have helped me so far and gotten nothing in return. Why wouldn't anyone else do the same?"

"Because I have been uncharacteristically nice to you," he corrected. "And so far, I have gotten the pleasure of your company in return."

Feeling admonished, the blunette countered, "Well, I'm sure there's some skill I could exchange for a ride off this planet." _I'm certain I could build something or repair something in need of fixing in return for a lift._

Raditz eyed her. "I'm sure that the skills most men would be interested in are not the ones you have in mind."

Bra's eyes widened. "I... I..." She was speechless.

The long-haired man allowed a smirk of satisfaction to spread across his lips. "I didn't think so. You are clearly unaccustomed to the workings of the galaxy. How you have survived this long astounds me. My suggestion is that you stick with me, at least until you have secured passage to your destination. I will make sure you aren't taken advantage of."

The teen opened her mouth to protest, but another wave of dizziness suddenly struck her. She thought that she was past her bouts of vertigo; she hadn't felt the least bit tipsy while she had been sitting down. She leaned into the backside of the booth she had risen from, closing her eyes while waiting for the spell to pass. She thought that if she ate something, the nutrients would help her metabolize the poisons in her bloodstream. Apparently, that was not the case.

Raditz eyed her. "What's the matter?"

Bra opened her eyes. "It's nothing. Just a little tipsy. I'll be fine."

He grinned playfully. "Oh, you can't possibly be intoxicated! You barely had a sip of alcohol!"

When the blunette didn't respond to his teasing, he grew concerned. The long-haired male gently took her by her shoulders and leaned in close to her. The girl immediately tensed up. She heard his short puffs of breath as he drew in her scent. After a moment, he withdrew from her, but his hands lingered on her shoulders, offering support. She looked up into his eyes, and found a trace of alarm in his dark brown orbs.

"There is a neurotoxin running through your system," he informed her. He couldn't believe that he hadn't detected it sooner.

"I know," she muttered. "I hoped that it would have run its course by now."

"Possible. But there is something on your person that continues to feed it into you."

Bra raised her right hand and rested it on the wound in her left side. Through the layers of clothing, she fingered the bandages adhered to her flesh. This action drew Radtiz's attention.

"What is that?" he asked.

Her eyes grew distant as she explained. "One of the locals tended to an injury... It put a salve on the wound; to help it heal, I initially thought... But that same creature also tried to slip me some poison in some sort of stew. I think it used the same poison in the salve it put on me..." she explained.

"And you haven't removed it yet?"

"I haven't exactly had time to," she retorted.

"Come with me back to my hotel room," Raditz ordered.

"What?" Bra responded. "I can't go back to your hotel room! That's just creepy!"

The long-haired man scowled. "While under normal circumstances, I would only invite a female to my room to satisfy certain needs, I assure you that in this case, that is not my intention. We must get that salve washed off of you as quickly as possible."

"I don't know..." she continued to hesitate.

"What other choice do you have, Bulla? Are you willing to trust another one of the locals to help you when you've already been deceived by one? Or will you trust me?"

The blunette considered her options. Certainly, she could go off on her own right now. She didn't have to stick around with him. Although... It was likely that she would continue to feel sick until she found somewhere to wash the salve off. It was probable that she'd run into the authorities before she found a safe place to do so. And when she did find a safe location, would it be secure long enough until she was better? Raditz was offering her an escort, a safe place to wash up, and his protection until she was well again. _Dammit. It would be stupid not to accept his offer,_ she realized.

"Alright," she conceded despite the risk she knew she was taking by remaining in his company.

Raditz smiled. "Excellent. Let me pay my bill and we'll be on our way."


End file.
